I Could Love You
by x-MJ-x
Summary: The moment he met her he knew he wanted her, he could just never be sure that she felt the same until suddenly something changed between them. The love affair of Victoria and David - reworked from the show to follow my own path with some show tie-ins.
1. The Moment We Met

**Hey, **

**You know I'm surprised no one has done one like this yet, but this is my attempt to tell the love story between Victoria and David in a new way, I've done my research into necessary elements – such as time scales etc, but certain details will be a little different owing to issues of personal continuity – it's not quite the way the met in the show or how their affair proceeded but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

Hearing the door click, he felt his body tense, he shouldn't be here but it was really too late to worry about that now. He was aware of the heavy sigh which escaped her as she allowed herself to relax for probably the first time all night. It was what had intrigued him about her the most – whilst everyone else had been listening to the undoubtedly sincere words which came out of her mouth, he'd been fixed on the rest of her face: the tiredness, the tension at the corner of her mouth and the longing look in her eyes. He wondered briefly what a woman like her had to long for. Surely there was nothing that her money could not buy. Unconsciously he ran his hand along the smoothness of the stone which comprised the balcony, awaiting discovery. It didn't take long.

"Oh!" her voice expressed genuine surprise.

He swallowed the thrill of fear he felt before he spoke. "I'm sorry, I was just..." he paused; he hadn't quite practised this as well as he thought. "Looking for a bathroom," he settled on eventually. He was unconvincing, even to himself.

"There's one right down the hall," she told him, her tone knowing.

He chose not to respond to this for a moment. "Mrs Grayson isn't it?" he already knew of course who she was, but found the need to make idle conversation with her.

She nodded, smiling a wry smile. "Victoria. How did you know?" he noted sarcasm, she was clearly used to being recognised in this way.

"Your husband, he mentioned you when I interviewed, said you'd welcome me to the beach."

"Well, then, I'd better not let him down. Welcome to the beach," she said coldly, her arms motioning towards the expanse of sand just visible in the increasing darkness. He sensed resentment and instantly felt compelled to make amends for causing it.

As he dared to glance at her, he wondered if she suspected what he already knew – he had been hoping to see her. Alone. "Actually," he sighed deciding he needed to come up with something closer to the truth "the real reason I came up here was to get away from it all," he told her and watched her eyes flash brighter as she smiled.

"That makes two of us," she said.

"I'm sorry if I intruded," he said, making to leave but hardly wanting to.

She watched him turn from her, heading back through the high French doors, at the last moment, she spoke. "You live at the beach house next door, don't you?"

He turned, taking her address as an invitation to stay. "Yes. I'm David Clarke. I'm starting at Grayson Global shortly."

"_You're_ going to work for Conrad?" she sounded surprised if not a little disappointed.

"I am. I hoped to see him tonight, it's by his invitation that I'm here."

She ignored this, her eyes flicking instinctively towards the beach house. "I've seen you coming and going across the beach, with a little blonde girl," she paused a moment, studying the house "your daughter?" she asked. Something in her tone had changed.

"Amanda," he murmured the name with such affection her heart almost burst.

"She's very lovely," she told him, turning to face him at last. "Did we meet before?" she asked changing tract immediately.

"I don't think so. The beach house is new to my portfolio... or it would be, if I had one," he shifted, laughing uncomfortably.

"I'm sure I... I thought I remembered seeing you here before, with a woman. Your wife?"

"Kara." There was coldness in his voice that hadn't been there when she had enquired about his daughter. "She..." he searched for the right explanation "Kara's _not with us anymore_," he said, it was the truth after all. "Amanda was five." There was just the slightest hitch in his voice which hinted at the truth of his feelings.

Victoria was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said "for raising the memory."

"It's alright. It was almost four years ago. Kara and I brought Amanda here one summer, we probably crossed paths then."

"Yes, I'm sure that was it." Tension hung in the air for a while before he spoke.

"So what about your son? Conrad mentioned him when we spoke."

"Daniel," she was overwhelmed with love. "He's a little older than Amanda. Eleven," she supplied mechanically, but that first utterance of the boy's name betrayed her stoic calmness.

"Maybe Amanda will bump into him on the beach," he said.

"I doubt that," Victoria replied truthfully. "Daniel boards at a school in the City. He won't be down for the season, vacations are different."

"He boards?" she nodded. "You hate that, don't you?"

"I hardly see him. Of course I want him to have the best education possible but... the separation is hard. Conrad visits with him on father and son weekends – that's where he is now in fact- but I only see him from thanksgiving to New Year, if I'm lucky. It's all very traditional you see," there was scorn in her voice- he wondered if she scorned her life?

"So Mr Grayson is with your son and you just single-handedly hosted a benefit for the Grayson Global Charitable Foundation? I don't know how you do it."

"Not quite single-handedly," she told him "I have people, but as patroness that's my duty. Conrad's a stellar businessman, but it's the little details he overlooks, the 'people pleasers' he calls them. That's why I'm the face of the foundation," it seemed that this was a burden to her.

"I can see why," he told her automatically, but then looked away. She was stunning and he felt a stirring of desire for her.

She blushed but continued. "Besides which, the Hamptons set really aren't that difficult to handle, once you know how," she told him with a slight wink.

"Then I'm even more endeared to the Foundation now."

"What do you mean?"

"Now that I know you run it. The philanthropic ventures of Grayson Global were a real attraction to me. I did worry that maybe it was just an empty promise but coming here, listening to you tonight, I realise that it's a real endeavour."

She gave an incredulous laugh. "If only you knew." Her tone surprised him, there it was again – that tone of resentment, although not towards him he sensed.

Silence descended again until she broke it. "So, what exactly will you be doing at Grayson Global?" she seemed genuinely interested.

"I'm not sure yet. Mr Grayson wants to appraise my specific skill set before I start– see where I can be of most use. If I could have half the security you have, for Amanda..." he was paused, awed by the company and the man he would be working for.

She drew in a sharp breath which he could not fathom. "I want you to remember something Mr Clarke, a piece of advice from the person who knows Conrad best- security, success – this," she motioned towards the house "is not always the same as happiness," she said and something in her eyes told her she meant it. "Now, if you'll excuse me – I still have guests downstairs," she tore herself away from the balcony and waited for him to precede her into the bedroom where she ushered him out just in front of her.

"It was nice to meet you Mrs Grayson," he said as they descended the staircase.

"Victoria," she murmured reaching out for his hand in order to shake it. "I enjoyed meeting you David," she said and with one brisk shake of his hand, she was gone.

As David headed for the door and made his way back to the beach house, his attention was arrested by that alluring, mysterious woman and he was overcome with the urge to solve the puzzle of her.

* * *

**So there it is: the first chapter in this new venture. I hope you enjoyed it and will let me know what you think, if you want more I have the next chapter already prepared and am working on three today. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Xx **


	2. Socialites and Summer Nights

**Thanks for the reviews and interest so far, they mean a lot. **

**Here's the next part for you, I hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I don't know where it came from, but I guess the more I watch the show the more Victoria and her brilliance stays with me and I wanted a chance to see the softer side of her. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

David pulled the bills from his wallet, settling the over-the-odds bill with the local butcher and making his way back towards the beach house where he was sure Amanda would be getting ready for another day out on the beach with Jack Porter. As he walked, a light breeze ruffling his hair, he thought about how different his life was now – a new employee of Grayson Global with a fixed address in Southampton and, it appeared, an extremely expensive barbeque feast to prepare. It was not that he was a frugal man, he lived without considering money all that much – but he was hardly frivolous either and he was not sure he could ever get used to this lifestyle as Victoria Grayson seemed to have been able to. Victoria. He turned his attentions towards the woman for a moment as he ascended the footpath towards the beach side residences. He couldn't help but think her beautiful – he dared any man not to find her so, but he was arrested by something else altogether. Behind the charming perfect hostess facade she had employed so brilliantly last night, in his private conversation with her he had noticed an entirely different side to the woman. There was something troubling her - that much he knew and further in the recesses of her personality, he sensed there was something potently dangerous about her. He knew that with his young daughter, he should be warned off by this but strangely, he was drawn to it. She was already invading his thoughts and he had known her for a matter of hours.

Just as he approached the veranda of his house, he saw her pulling a slender sports car – which somehow seemed to reflect her perfectly – into a garage at the side of her twenty thousand square foot property. Unable to resist the opportunity to speak with her, he shouted her name and watched her flinch at the volume of his voice.

"I'm sorry," he called noting how many times that word had already been passed between them "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," she smiled that one- thousand watt smile. "It's just, we haven't had neighbours for a couple of summers now, I was in my own world." She certainly was, he thought.

"It's so quiet up here isn't it?" he agreed. "Peaceful," he added.

She replied so quietly, he almost didn't hear her but just as she leant into her car, retrieving her purse he caught her simple retort, "or lonely." He knew she was referring to herself.

She pushed a combination of buttons on a keypad built into the wall and the garage door shut behind her. "You're out early," she said after a while, moving towards the front of the house and him, seemingly disregarding the fact that she too had just returned home.

"Groceries," he held up the spoils of his recent excursion.

"From Albert Hardy? You ought to be careful; I've heard he's ridiculously overpriced."

"You wouldn't know?" he teased.

She held his gaze with her own penetrating stare for a moment but then averted her eyes as she felt a blush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. "The staff..." she paused knowing that it was ridiculous that in this day and age she had people to do her grocery shopping for her.

"Say no more," he said saving her the embarrassment by trying to make it seem like it was some Hamptons insider joke. "Are you busy?" he asked.

"I'm always busy Mr Clarke," she told him flicking her long dark hair behind her as she made towards the entrance of the conservatory.

"Right now, this second?" his voice was playful.

"Well um..." he knew he had caught her off guard with that reply, he sensed that no one defied her; no one challenged her, without paying. If it meant more time in her company, he thought he could afford it. "What did you have in mind?" she asked with a sigh intended to sound frustrated but coming off as something entirely different.

"Come meet Amanda, she's just having breakfast."

"Oh I don't think..."

"Please, it'd be good for her to meet some of our neighbours."

She said nothing but he knew he had convinced her just from the way her eyes sparkled and the almost imperceptible nod she gave.

* * *

He slid the key into the lock and stepped back, allowing her to precede him into the beach house. "She's just in the kitchen," he said throwing his keys carelessly on a small table to the right of the door. "Follow me," he said.

True enough the pair found Amanda perched at the breakfast island with her back to them. "Honey, I home," he said in a put-on voice and she laughed, it was clearly an in-joke.

"Did you get it?" she said swivelling in her chair and popping the last bite of the pancakes he had made for her into her mouth.

"I sure did – everything we need," he spoke warmly. It was then that the little girl noticed her father's company.

"Hi," she said automatically and Victoria wondered why her father suddenly exhaled.

"Hello," Victoria returned the greeting cordially.

"Amanda, honey, this is Mrs Grayson, she lives next door."

"Mrs Grayson? Like your boss at your new job?"

Victoria smiled "Conrad is my husband," she told her.

"...and you live in that huge mansion?"

"Amanda..."

"It's alright," Victoria dismissed her probing easily. "It's a manor actually but I could see why you would call it a mansion. There is a lot of space." The realisation of this seemed to sadden her.

"Cool," Amanda replied, sliding from her stool and hitting the floor with a slap of her sandals. "So I can go meet Jack on the beach now right daddy?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"Sure. Hey, why don't you tell Jack that he and his parents can come by around six? I'll see you at lunch alright?"

"Ok," she agreed heading for the door. "Bye," she called to both her father and Victoria.

"Amanda, not too close to the..." he started but she was gone with a bang of the door. "Water," he finished to the thin air.

There were several tense seconds between the adults but then Victoria spoke. "She's quite something, she has a mind of her own," she smiled.

"Yeah I know, some people say I should rein her in, but I love that free-spirit of hers."

"It was good to meet her," she said taking a moment to glance around the kitchen; it was surprisingly homely considering he was a widower.

He followed her gaze around the room "Kara's influence, not mine I'm afraid. Numbers I can manage, interior design not so much," he laughed.

"It's quite lovely," she said already heading for the door. "Well..." she glanced at a watch she wasn't wearing.

"Wait..." he said before her hand closed around the door handle. "Look... Amanda and I are hosting a barbeque out on the beach tonight. We're having some friends over – the Porters..." he started to explain but she interrupted him.

"The Porters? I can't say that I know them," she said, mentally going through the list of families the Graysons were acquainted with in Southampton.

"They own the Stowaway, on the Marina – surely you've been in there for a drink?"

"I rarely have the leisure to do that," she said thinking of the amount of parties and soirees she had to host this week alone.

"You should always make time for yourself," David said, unthinkingly.

"Perhaps I should. Look I really must go," she said not trusting herself given the turn the in conversation.

"Come," he said and then elaborated upon seeing her shocked expression. "Tonight. To the barbeque. Meet the Porters, start that making time thing."

"I can't," she said.

"Oh," he said "yes of course. I forgot you're a woman 'in season'," again he'd spoken before he had thought and they both stopped short as they realised what he had said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"I know what you meant Mr Clarke," she said trying not to laugh at his Freudian slip.

"I didn't mean to offend you or to be inappropriate. I only meant you have a lot of events, I know you must be busy."

"I know what you meant," she repeated.

"You're probably a vegetarian; you probably don't eat barbequed food in the summer right?"

"There's one thing you should know about me going forward Mr Clarke."

"Oh?"

"I'm a trend setter not a follower. What I do tonight, other women will be begging to do come the morning."

"So..." he paused watching her open the door "that's a yes?"

She fixed him with another of her stares, her eyes flashing and then she was gone.

* * *

The barbeque had long since burnt out and the sun was well past setting. Down by the water's edge Amanda and Jack laughed as Mrs Porter felt the cold rush of the sea against her legs and Carl stood, silently observing his friend, sipping a cold beer and wondering what had his attention so arrested. David was barely aware of what happened around him. Alternating between watching Amanda as she played and glancing up at the balcony which protruded from Grayson manor, he could hardly hide his disappointment.

"Hey, David what is it huh? You've been distracted all night, barely even touched your chilli-dog," Carl said noticing the unusual behaviour.

"Sorry, it's just I invited a friend... I hoped... doesn't matter anyway, it was stupid of me to think..." he trailed off.

Carl followed David's line of sight, "you made friends with the King?"

David laughed and shook his head "his wife, actually."

"So working for the guy wasn't enough, now you want his wife?" Carl seemed surprised.

"I don't _want _her," he lied, more easily than he had imagined. "I just like her is all."

"Come on man, it's all over your face."

"I like the woman alright? When was that ever a crime?"

Carl shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "Whatever you say buddy, just remember – you play with fire, you're gonna get burned."

"You should listen to your friend Mr Clarke," she spoke from behind them and he whipped around, wondering how much of their conversation she had been privy to and not wanting her to walk away with an entirely false impression of his feelings for her.

"Well," Carl spoke awkwardly after several tense seconds of silence between them all. "I'll leave you to it then, I should probably get the rabble home anyway. You want us to take Amanda up to the house?"

"D'you mind?"

Carl shook his head before hot-footing it down to the seafront.

* * *

"I didn't think you were coming," David said.

"Neither did I, but then I realised it was facing another night alone in that big house or coming out here... spending time with a..._ friend_," she made reference to the conversation she had overheard.

"I'm glad you could come. I'm afraid the barbeque burnt out a couple hours ago."

"I'm not hungry anyway," she said scanning the beach and seeing that they were now quite alone. "I meant what I said Mr Clarke, listen to your friends. In my experience they rarely deceive you."

"...and if we became friends?"

"Friends? Trust me when I say this, a man like _you_ doesn't need a friend like _me_."

"I think I'll make up my own mind," he smiled but she didn't return it.

"Mr Clarke... David, listen to me..." she was about to continue when she heard a voice calling and turned towards it, recognising it immediately.

"Mom! Mom! Over here! Mommy!" Daniel called, running across the beach towards her.

She was shocked, unable to respond as he charged forward and finally enveloped her in his embrace. She pulled him closer, resting her chin on his head as she breathed in his comforting scent. "Daniel," she murmured with such love that David suddenly felt awkward and intrusive.

"Did you miss me? Were you surprised?" the boy wanted to know.

"Yes, yes you did," Victoria laughed stifling back tears.

"I'll see you later Victoria," David said after a moment, staying just long enough for her to glance in his direction before he retreated back towards the house.

* * *

Victoria held Daniel's hand all the way back up to the manor, revelling in the closeness of her darling son. As they entered the foyer, she became minutely aware of _his_ forebodingpresence in the stairwell. "Go on up darling," she told her son "I'll be there in a minute," she assured him watching Daniel pass his father who patted his head like he was a good pet – it was then that she realised that Daniel had been used against her.

She looked up at him, disgusted by the scotch that was already in his hand. "Margarita said you were down on the beach," he deadpanned, sipping. "Not that I hadn't already seen, not to mention your son."

She held his gaze for a second but found herself forced to look away. "Was there something you wanted to say to me Conrad?" she asked, tired of this game.

He made some noise of amusement as he came down the stairs, coming closer to her than he had in months. "Careful with that one my pretty," he warned, his voice full of unspoken threat "I sense an _indiscretion _in the midst," he kissed her cheek; his breath was laced with alcohol. She despised him.

"Well Conrad," she said distancing herself from him as she made to follow her son upstairs, "you _are _the expert," she said and then she was gone. Pausing on the landing and looking back towards his study, she saw Margarita disappear inside, another one of Conrad's little mistresses. He might think she was no more than a pretty little trophy wife, but there was nothing Victoria Grayson did not know. Just ask Margarita.

* * *

**There's the next instalment for you, I hope that you're enjoying my re-working of the Victoria/ David love affair, I know it's a little different, but I intend to loop it back in towards the end. I have chapter three ready to go and will work on four tonight/ tomorrow. **

**Please excuse all minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Xx **


	3. Behind Closed Doors

**Here's the next part for you, I hope you're enjoying this. Thank you for your reviews, they mean a lot. This one's for those of you who liked the Victoria/ Conrad dynamic ;)**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

The incessant scraping of cutlery against her finest china was a sound which threatened to add to the already blooming migraine she could feel coming on. There was a heavy silence at the breakfast table as Conrad pretended to read the business column and Daniel looked between his parents, not failing to notice the tension that still existed between them. Loading her fork with more salmon, she paused before eating it, taking a sip of her orange juice and turning towards Daniel.

"So, Daniel darling, how's school? Tell me everything."

Daniel quickly finished the bite of toast he had just taken, swallowing some juice before he spoke. "School's good," he said evasively – it was his typical response when she called him during semester.

"Come on Daniel," Conrad spoke up; folding his paper with a sinister smile Victoria didn't like the look of at all. It meant he was up to something she wasn't privy to and if it involved Daniel, she didn't want to know. "Your mother hasn't seen you since New Year. Tell her what you told me yesterday."

Daniel stared between his parents again, not sure that he should – he didn't want to upset his Mom, he knew she didn't like some of the things he studied in school. "Well...um... Mr Harman... he said... he thinks I'm ready to go out on the water in sailing class," he let the excitement spill into voice.

Victoria felt a slight tick at the corner of her mouth but tried her best to smile. "He did? Well that's wonderful news Daniel," she replied popping the forkful of salmon into her mouth in order to district herself. "Let's hope Mr Harman knows what he's doing," she added as she saw her son's smile.

"He's says I'm going to make a fine sailor," Daniel told her.

"I'm sure you will darling," she said tightly. "Why don't you go on out to the beach, make the most of it whilst you're here? I'll come out in a minute."

Waiting for Daniel to be out of ear shot, she turned on Conrad. "What the Hell do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Victoria."

"He's eleven years old Conrad, there's no way I'll allow him out on the water. He's just a boy."

Conrad sneered "_he_ is a Grayson!" his tone was harsh.

"That doesn't mean that he should be doing high risk sports at his age, you're so focused on him following in your footsteps, you're taking away his childhood!"

"He was born to take over Grayson Global, if he's going to do that he needs to learn to be a man!"

"He was born to be loved Conrad, or have you forgotten that? I absolutely refuse to have him out on the water."

"The papers have already been signed, by me – his _father_ and the financier of his extortionate tuition."

"You know, Conrad, I didn't think it was possible for me to despise you more than I already do, but this, keeping my son from me then putting him at risk – it's a new low, even for you."

"So what are you waiting for? Get out there on the beach, enjoy him while you can," he said, turning back to his newspaper and not even bothering to deny the accusations she had made against him.

"Tell me, how long exactly is that going to be?"

"A day or two I don't know. Judging by your hysterics I'd say the shorter end," he said coldly.

"Why do you do this to me Conrad? I've been nothing but loyal to you, given you a son, hosted your ridiculous parties..."

"Exactly, you've given me a son; he needs to be raised in the Grayson way. Boarding school, sailing those things are just the beginning," he said sipping his coffee. "Besides, from where I was standing, you didn't miss Daniel too much last night, with David Clarke," he couldn't resist the jibe.

"Don't you dare!" she said flying from her chair and finding herself suddenly opposite him. "Don't _ever_ accuse me of something I haven't done."

"It didn't look like_ he _was something you'd never do Victoria," he said crassly, enjoying the flush of colour which flamed her cheeks at the insinuation.

"You have nothing to worry about Conrad. David Clarke isn't a threat to you. If there's one thing I know, it's that I'm _your_ wife," she told him heavily. "_Everyone _knows that."

"Good. So if you're telling the truth, what were you and he so deeply in conversation about last night?"

She sighed, hating this interrogation "I met him at the benefit two nights ago, the one _you _invited him to. He knows I front the Foundation and we happened to be out on the beach at the same time. He was just asking about our current causes, he wants to make a donation, that's _all_," she told him sadly, defeated. "Are you happy now?" she asked, grabbing the wrap that was hanging over the back of her chair and slinging it over her shoulders.

"Yes, surprisingly," he replied as she headed for the door which lead onto the beach. "I think I might just have found a use for Mr Clarke at Grayson Global, thank you Victoria," he added with a glint in his eye.

Her back stiffened a little as she reached the door but she did not say anything in reply, if she protested it would only make things worse and that was the last thing that David Clarke needed as he started working for her husband. She flicked her eyes closed feeling the burden of letting her heart enter the equation too much before she headed out onto the beach to find her son. She would leave him to his plotting; she wanted no part in it.

* * *

**There's the next part, a little shorter I admit but some chapters will just be bridging chapters. I hoped you enjoyed it and will let me know what you think. **

**Please forgive any minor editorial mistakes; I've tried my best to get rid of them all. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Xx**


	4. Across Enemy Lines

**Here's the next part for you, I hope you enjoy it, let's take a peek into the depraved mind of Conrad Grayson and see exactly what he is prepared to do to stop an **_**indiscretion... **_**I'm glad you're enjoying this, I think I may have set myself up for a big commitment with these fast updates, trust me this is very unusual but I will keep trying my best. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Having ensured that Victoria was quite preoccupied on the beach with their son, Conrad exited the house and made the short trip to David Clarke's beach house. It was an old motto certainly, but then he was something of an old timer in the world of the Hamptons and he lived by the mantra that one should keep one's friends close but one's enemies closer. As he stood on the veranda and knocked on his door, he reasoned it was about time to decide on which side of the line David Clarke laid. It didn't take long for the other man to answer the door and he was greeted by the kind of smile he imagined Victoria going weak-kneed over.

"Mr Grayson!" he was jovial as he opened the door and reached out a hand, which Conrad shook heartily. "I wasn't expecting you."

"David. I'm sorry if I'm intruding but I thought after my absence from the benefit on Thursday, I should come apologise, I'd forgotten that I'd extended an invite to you – I should have been there – a face you recognised at least."

"That's alright," David waved off the apology "I know you're busy. Besides, Mrs Grayson was very hospitable."

"Ah yes, Victoria mentioned that you'd become acquainted. I'm pleased to say my wife makes an excellent hostess, it's one of her finer points."

David could think of some things about Victoria Grayson he would rank above her hospitality, but he would never broach that subject with her husband. Breaking out of his temporary reverie, he became aware of his company again. "Sorry, do you want to come in?"

"I wouldn't be disturbing you? I know that you're enjoying the last days of your vacation before you join my company. I don't want you to miss any time with your daughter," he said but he was already stepping inside.

"Come on in. I appreciate the thought, but I don't think Amanda quite sees the last days of my vacation the same way. She's out on the beach with her friend; she'll be a while yet."

Conrad followed the other man through to his kitchen where the pair stood in a somewhat awkward silence during which he tried to judge David's character behind the affable persona he was projecting. Conrad Grayson was the master of the facade and could usually spot the same tactics on another a mile off, but something about this man was frustratingly genuine.

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?" he asked, moving towards the coffee machine.

"Water's good, thanks."

David handed him a glass, wondering what Conrad was really doing here. Surely, Victoria had told him that she'd been his welcoming committee? There seemed to be something more sinister about his boss' visit this afternoon, something which just escaped his notice. "Is there something I can do for you Mr Grayson?" he asked after a while.

"Actually, I was hoping we could discuss your role at Grayson Global a little, you mind?" he asked signalling to a stool at the breakfast island.

"Take a seat."

"I understand that you're interested in the Charitable Foundation, is that right?"

"Absolutely, I was saying to your wife on Thursday, the philanthropic endeavours of Grayson Global were a real attraction to me, but attending the benefit, hearing Mrs Grayson speak, I was in awe of the work the Foundation does."

"Yes, my wife does have that effect on people. She's a wonderful orator, very persuasive." David had to wonder why he kept saying 'my wife' – that was a fact he knew all too well.

"Well you can tell her it worked, since then I've been researching your causes, I'd really like to donate. I actually ran into Mrs Grayson on the beach last night and was discussing just that." It was proving easier to fabricate the truth than he had thought it would.

Conrad didn't respond for a moment, he was taken aback by the fact that Victoria seemed to have told him the truth. That rarely happened in their marriage and now that it had, he didn't quite know how to respond. He paused for a moment to consider the possibility that they had colluded to formulate an alibi – that the real subject of their conversation was entirely different, but then he considered the man in front of him and thought that it was hardly possible that this was the case. The guy reeked of honesty. _All the better to hurt you with my pretty_ he thought to himself. If Victoria did ever decide to act upon the indiscretion he sensed she longed for, he'd only have to look at this man's face and he'd see it written there as clearly as day.

"Well about that," Conrad said after a while "I have an idea even better than a donation."

"Oh?"

"I was thinking about your interests and your skill set, I see you're an excellent numbers guys. With Victoria managing the Foundation from the outside, I'm ashamed to say the internal management has rather lapsed. You're fresh eyes in the company; I'd like to assign you the responsibility, if you feel up to it – of campaign manager for the Foundation."

"Me?" David said instantly calculating the responsibility that would come with that position and realising that it would also necessarily put him in close proximity to Victoria, something he would relish.

"Absolutely, the way I see it Mr Clarke there's little use having an impressive resume if you're going to be stuck in some office pen-pushing right? As the internal front-man for the Foundation you can put your skills to excellent use and do some good in the process. There aren't many opportunities like this one out there David, trust me," Conrad told him.

David considered what he was saying for a moment. He knew it was a rare opportunity and that he'd build connections he'd never dreamed of when Mr Grayson had offered him the chance to work for him, but there was something of a threatening undertone to his words which made David wary of Conrad.

"I just want Amanda to have a good life," David replied honestly.

"What better way to offer her that? Think how proud she'll be to know her father heads up one of the leading charitable foundations in the state."

"You're right, it is an excellent opportunity, I just – I don't quite know what to say."

"Yes, Mr Clarke, the word you're looking for is yes."

"Well then, yes. I accept," David said, unable to ignore the niggling feeling he was getting.

"Excellent. Of course there'll be paperwork to attend to, contracts – that sort of thing. I've already sent a brief out to my PA so that should all be in motion. I was hoping you could come by the office, perhaps on Monday. That way we can get the induction stuff done before you start – maximise your involvement in the company without getting drowned in the technicalities – policies, politics... I'm sure you understand..."

"On Monday? I have Amanda to think of. I have no one to watch her. She's good friends with Jack Porter but his parents run a bar, I watch out for them whilst they're on the beach. Our Nanny doesn't start until the end of the month and she's on vacation in Prague..."

"If you can make it, I would like for things to be sorted before your contract commences," Conrad persisted.

"I just don't think it's going to be possible. I can't leave Amanda here alone."

"You know, I think the perfect solution is staring us both right in the face."

"What's that?"

"I'll ask Victoria to watch her."

"Oh no, I couldn't – it would be an imposition, Amanda's my responsibility. I know your wife must be busy. "

"With her endless parties you mean? Look it'd be no trouble and besides, it's me asking her not you, so there wouldn't be any danger of an imposition. Victoria's going to be watching Daniel anyway; the children should get to know each other. My wife will enjoy the company; I think she secretly wanted Daniel to be a girl. Frankly, I'm glad he was a son. One demanding woman in the Grayson household is enough..." he laughed tensely, his features growing dark.

"I really don't want to be any trouble," David said.

"You won't be," Conrad said moving towards the door. "I'll see you Monday?" he asked as David showed him out.

"As long as Mrs Grayson doesn't mind," David agreed.

"Don't worry yourself over Victoria," Conrad replied "at all," he added and David could not fail to notice the threat in his voice.

"Ok. Well thank you," David smiled, deciding that he wasn't so sure about Conrad Grayson after all. As he shut the door, he hoped Victoria wouldn't be too offended.

Back at Grayson manor Conrad waited for his wife and son to return. As he thought back over his conversation with David Clarke, he concluded that the threat he had felt seemed to be in his mind. The other man had expressed interest in his wife yes, but as he himself had said, Victoria's speeches did have the power to move people – or at least they moved people who thought she meant every word -. He had stopped being fooled by her oratorical skills some years ago now. He considered his decision to employ David and to put him in charge of the Charitable Foundation; it had been the right one. Mr Clarke was not an enemy to Grayson Global or to his marriage at all. In fact he thought the man would prove to be a useful ally when the time came, unfortunately for David...

* * *

**There it is, I hope you like it. I wanted to show that Conrad really can be calculated. My reasons for having Victoria take care of Amanda will be explained in the next chapter, which I am going to start work on now with the hope of it being posted later this afternoon. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I've done my best to get rid of them. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Xx **


	5. Just Between Us

**Here comes chapter five, I actually can't believe I've written it all this quickly! I hope you're still enjoying this. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I just want to go to the beach with Jack, why do you have to go to work?"

"You see Jack every day, one day apart won't hurt you. Besides, seeing as we're neighbours with the Graysons you should get to know Daniel."

"Why?"

"It's the polite thing to do. Mrs Grayson's very busy you know, I know my best girl is going to be good for her right?" he asked knowing that he didn't have to worry, Amanda knew how to behave.

She rolled her eyes a little before he pulled a face and she cracked a smile, her first all morning. "Fine, but you owe me," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"If you agree to be nice to Daniel I'll take you out for ice cream when I get back, deal?"

She considered this for a moment before replying "deal."

"Now, we'd better be going, I don't want to be late."

They rang the bell at Grayson manor waiting for one of the staff to answer it. "Be nice to Mrs Grayson won't you? Just between us, I think she could use your company," he said just before the door was opened and a maid ushered Amanda inside. "Be a good girl," he called before he headed for his car.

* * *

Grayson Global was a lot bigger than it had seemed when he'd met with Conrad for his interview and as he waited in the lobby for Mr Grayson's secretary to appear, he already felt overwhelmed by the scale of the task that lay before him. He wouldn't say anything however - the opportunity to give Amanda the life she deserved as well as the secret thrill he felt that he would be working alongside Victoria was just too good to pass up.

He shifted, adjusting his tie self consciously to pass the time. As he looked around the area he waited in, he let his mind drift from the company he was about to join and thought about his daughter and Victoria. It was a nice picture, the two of them together; he just hoped that things were going well back at the beach. After a while longer, Conrad's secretary appeared – a blonde woman who was the complete opposite of Mrs Grayson and as he followed her up to the appropriate floor of the building, he had to wonder if Conrad would ever be tempted by her – weaker men would fall he knew.

"Ok Mr Clarke, Mr Grayson had me put together a welcome pack of all the things you'll need. There's a copy of your contract in there if you want to have your attorney look over it," she told him and he cut across her.

"I don't have an attorney," he said wondering why she'd brought it up.

"You might want to consider putting someone on retainer – outside of the company – just in case," there was knowledge in her eyes but he did not press her. This was probably just protocol like Conrad had mentioned.

"Anyway," she continued, clearing her throat. "Along with your contract you'll find the company policies – health and safety, health insurance... fraternisation..." she paused blushing a little "and something Mr Grayson has all new employees sign, it's very important," she said handing him a single sided white document.

David ran a cursory eye over the document entitled 'personal discretion disclaimer'. Scanning the terms, he noticed phrases such as 'I agree to deny knowledge of the managing director's infidelities'. He swallowed and finished reading. God. This document practically told him that in the event Victoria had reason to question Conrad's fidelity in a legal sense, Grayson Global employees were to deny all knowledge of any such indiscretions. They were effectively condoning adultery, probably multiple times over. Suddenly that uneasy feeling manifested itself but he knew he had no choice but sign the document, especially with the eyes of Mr Grayson's secretary bearing down onto him. He was practically swearing fealty to the King, as Carl had aptly called him. It sickened him, but in signing the document he was already consciously betraying the woman he longed to get to know.

Just as he was reading through the remaining documents, signing and dating policy after policy, Conrad walked into the office. "Lydia, I wonder if I could see..." he stopped short when he noticed David. "Ah, Mr Clarke," Conrad said with forced joviality "I'd forgotten you were coming in today." It was a complete lie of course; David Clarke's arrival had been all that had been on his mind. He needed that contract signed as proof to some very overbearing 'influences' on his business decisions that he had come up with a solution to a little _problem _he was experiencing. "I see Lydia here has the induction well underway, everything's in order I trust?" he asked, coming around to the side of the desk and looking over the multiple signatures David had added to the various documents. Taking mental stock, Conrad located the discretion disclaimer and reached down, placing it on top of the pile. "This is the document I'm most interested in David, you understand – in this line of work – discretion is everything," he said, his voice syrupy.

"Of course," David smiled although it was a tight, forced smile at best.

"Good," Conrad said, signalling to Lydia who moved towards the door "just between us Ok David?" he asked following his secretary out.

A while later when he was done signing papers and had been informed that he had done everything required of him until he started in a few weeks' time, David bumped into Conrad and more surprisingly, Daniel Grayson.

"Oh, David you haven't met my son Daniel have you?" Conrad asked as they stopped to talk. "At least not officially," he added snidely.

Ignoring him, David spoke "Daniel. Hi, I'm David," he said, trying to catch up with the step he'd missed. "Forgive me, but I thought you said Mrs Grayson had Daniel with her today?"

"She did, this morning. I hear that Daniel and Amanda hit it off. I had Daniel brought here since I have to take him back to school, he was home on a slightly unmitigated whim."

"I see," David said automatically feeling sympathy for Victoria and feeling the need to be back on the beach with his daughter even more.

"So you're all done for today?" Conrad asked, ushering Daniel on.

"Yes I filled everything out."

Conrad nodded. "Do me a favour when you pick up Amanda? Tell Victoria I'll see her tomorrow around four? Appreciate it," he said.

David said nothing but nodded his acquiescence, bidding both Graysons goodbye and safe travels.

_Just between us, _Conrad had said. Suddenly David suspected much more than just temptation where Mr Grayson's secretary was concerned.

* * *

It was a little after two in the afternoon when he made his way down towards the beachside properties. Stopping at Grayson manor, he was redirected by the maid he had seen this morning to the beach. Scanning the waterfront, he could make out Amanda paddling in the water unsurprisingly with Jack. Standing with her back to him, watching over them, Victoria was ankle deep in the sea and her hair whipped around her head, making her appear even more beautiful than he already thought her previously as he approached.

"There you are!" he called and she startled, whipping around to face him, her hand across her eyebrows, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Hello Mr Clarke," she smiled and he couldn't help returning it. "So my husband's finished with you for the day?"

"Yeah I signed everything I needed to," he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Thank you for doing this, I appreciate it," he said.

"It was my pleasure," she sounded like she meant it.

"No really, it means a lot. When I said I didn't have a Nanny I didn't mean for Mr Grayson to ask you, I'm sorry if Amanda has imposed on your day with your son."

"She's been no trouble, we've had fun. Besides, Daniel had to return to school," she sounded sad "having Amanda raid my closet was a welcome distraction, something I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing having a son."

"Oh she didn't make a mess did she?"

"Not at all. She must have tried on twenty pairs of shoes though," she laughed.

"She misses her Mom," he said.

"I'm sure," she replied, digging her toes into the sand a little before moving off and making to head off up the beach "well," she said "now that you're back, I should probably be going, I have a party to host tonight, I have to get dressed," she said signalling to the white linen shirt she wore over a loose sundress. The wilderness of it was an erotic image much more powerful than the expensive gown she had worn on Thursday night. "I'm afraid this wouldn't do for a gathering of the wives of the board of directors at Grayson Global," she explained.

"Wait!" he called and she halted turning back towards him.

"I wanted to say thank you – for today, properly. Mr Grayson asked me to pass on the message that he'll see you at four tomorrow," he paused trying to muster the courage to continue but she interrupted him.

"He'll stay at the apartment in the city tonight undoubtedly," she sounded as if this was a regular occurrence

"Look, I thought since we'll be working together on the Foundation..."

"So it's true," hers was a tone of regret.

"Is that a problem?" he laughed.

"No..."

"What is it Victoria? Since I met you I've felt like you wanted to tell me something, but I'm having trouble figuring it out."

"It's nothing," she said "it has to do with me. Conrad is testing me. First with Amanda – he wants to see if I'm going to beg him for a daughter and now with throwing us together he wants to know if well, it doesn't matter..."

"Why would he do that?"

"That's the way it is between us Mr Clarke, I don't expect you to understand it," she said "I have to go, I really do," she added.

"Come over, later - for a drink. We can discuss the Foundation."

"I have the party, it'll run late. Besides, Conrad has eyes everywhere."

"Why would they suspect you for holding a business meeting?"

"They won't see it that way. I can't, I'm sorry."

"Come to the beach house for breakfast then, Amanda will be out on the beach early, we can talk," he offered, hoping she'd take him up on it; a meeting by daylight hours had to be allowed didn't it?

"You're persistent I'll give you that."

"What can I say?" he smiled, watching her begin to retreat again. "You haven't said yes," he called.

"I rarely do," she replied, halfway up the beach by now.

"Ten 'o' clock?" he shouted. She span around just one more time offering him the slightest smile. It was good enough for him.

"Amanda, honey, I'm back!" he called, jogging back to the water's edge and feeling it lap at his feet, his excitement about the following morning mirroring the bubbling of the ocean.

* * *

**A little different than I planned but I hope you like it. Let me know. **

**Please forgive any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have done my best to get rid of them. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Xx **


	6. Of Marriage and Monsters

**Hello all, **

**Thank you for the continued reviews and interest on this one, it means a lot. Here's chapter six for you, I hope you like it. It's going to explore Victoria in a bit more detail and start to suggest David Clarke as a... possible alternative to Conrad, shall we say? **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He checked and double checked the breakfast spread he'd laid on for his guest. He wondered if maybe he'd gone a little overboard: pancakes, fruit, toast and salmon – he had the works; he and Amanda would be eating the left-overs of this spread all week. It was only after he'd returned to the beach house with his daughter that he'd realised that he'd forgotten to ask Victoria what she liked for breakfast, it was better to cover all bases, he thought.

"I'm heading out to the beach," Amanda said, grabbing him around the waist and hugging him.

He held her close for a moment and tried to follow the example of her constant calmness. "Be careful Ok honey? We'll go out for some lunch later alright?"

"Can Jack come?" she asked and once again he was astounded by the attachment she had formed to the boy.

"As long as his Mom and Dad say it's Ok," David agreed.

"Thanks Daddy, you're the best," Amanda said kissing his cheek before she ran off to make plans with the young Porter.

"I know!" he laughed, turning back to the table and checking everything over again before he went to switch on the coffee machine, realising that he'd never been more nervous over breakfast in his life.

* * *

It was after ten when she appeared on the veranda holding a black file and he let her in with an exaggerated glance at his watch which made her lips upturn in a smile.

"In the Hamptons Mr Clarke, fashionably late is incredibly early," she told him as he motioned for her to join him at the table. "Well, this is quite a spread. Not all for my benefit I hope?" she added, her eyes flashing as she realised the thought and effort which had gone into the gesture.

"Oh no Amanda and I always have a big breakfast," he brushed it off.

"Really?" her raised eyebrow signalled her justified doubt.

"No," he said with a laugh "I just didn't know what you'd like," he explained.

"Well thank you," she said eyeing the pancakes hungrily.

"Can I get you some tea, or I have coffee or maybe you'd prefer some juice?"

"Tea would be lovely. Black with a little sugar, thank you," she said, shifting awkwardly in the seat he had shown her to.

A few minutes later, he joined her carrying two cups of tea. "Please, help yourself," he said signalling to the breakfast he had laid on for her. After she had taken some pancakes and strawberries, he followed suit, drowning his with syrup, she smiled again but said nothing.

"So, what can I help you with David?" she asked pulling the conversation instantly around to business before they'd even begun. "I brought copies of the Foundation's investors – it's always good to know who to cosy up to, I find," she said but then blushed and looked away.

He was endeared to her, she clearly noticed something between them, the same thing it appeared that he did but she was as unsure as he was about how to proceed. "You're right that is a good thing to know, but maybe we could talk about it later. First, why don't you tell me a bit more about yourself?"

She flashed him a knowing look, sighing as she took a bite of her pancake. "What do you want to know?"

"Well...tell me, how do things work between you and Conrad, really? How did you meet him?" he knew it was forward of him to ask, but it was something he'd wanted to know since he'd witnessed the dynamic between them – or rather, the lack of it.

She thought about this for a moment, wondering how to answer. She knew that from the outside her relationship with Conrad must appear very odd. They presented a united front to everyone they came into contact with, but in private they couldn't have been more distant. She was no more to him than just a face for his brand, she had looked the part of mother of his children and she had proven herself to be influential in closing deals, but he enjoyed hurting her more than anything, which was why she must proceed with caution. David Clarke was a good man and he was already in untold danger, the last thing he needed was to be targeted by association with her. "Well, it's like I said yesterday, I don't expect you to understand it – people rarely do, but Conrad and I have an arrangement."

He was momentarily taken aback by this response and the coldness of her reply. "An arrangement?" he tested the words - they didn't sit well with him. "What about love?"

She made a noise of amusement, knowing that he really meant the question in all seriousness. "That's nothing more than a four letter word," she said and again he was surprised by her coldness.

"You don't mean that," he said.

"Oh I do, David."

"You love your son, I know you do."

"You're right, I love Daniel very much, but that is a very different kind of love. You're a father, you know what I'm talking about, the way we love our children – it's instinctive. It just happens, it needs no justification -it's natural."

"Not always," David replied darkly, thinking of Kara.

She said nothing in reply to this, choosing instead to continue "I don't believe that that kind of love can be shared between a man and a woman."

"You've never felt that way about someone?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

"Is that a disappointment to you? Let me tell you something about me, something I told someone very... important to me, a long time ago," she paused, her eyes swimming with memories. "My life hasn't always been charmed; I haven't always been _this_ – "Victoria Grayson" – she's not really real. A long time ago I was someone quite different and I knew then with astounding clarity that _I could never love anybody. _Life dealt me a hand I couldn't play and Conrad... saved me. He's not an easy man to live with and in order to survive I have had to become _this. _But you see, that's why our marriage works – we're the same he and I..."

"...and what are you?"

"Monsters, Mr Clarke," she sighed letting him have a rare glimpse of her true self.

"I don't believe that."

"You will," she said sadly, thinking about Conrad's plot and seeing precisely why the idea of David Clarke fronting the Foundation filled him with glee. The other man was so unequivocally good that when the time came, the scandal would be all the more raw.

"You keep warning me off Victoria but so far I've seen nothing to suggest you're anything more the an amazing philanthropic, generous but very lonely woman," he said.

"Then you don't know me very well," she said and silence descended. The pair continued eating for a few minutes before she spoke "so what about you? Tell me more about you. Has there been anyone since... your wife, have you felt that kind of love again?" she met his forward questions with her own.

"No," he shook his head, taking a sip of his tea. "The thing is, Amanda tells me who to date."

"Your _eight year old _daughter tells you who to date?"

"I don't mean she _tells _me, I just mean she has instincts about people, she's very protective, her judgement is never far wrong and I have to make sure that she's happy. That's the thing that really matters to me," he said.

She thought about this for a moment, remembering the relief on his face when Amanda had greeted her on Friday. "But you didn't hesitate to introduce her to me," she said, letting this settle and wondering what it meant.

"You're different," he said. "I feel that and you were amazing with Amanda, she couldn't stop talking about you 'Victoria this and Victoria that'," he added.

She drank the last of her tea and toyed with the idea of eating another pancake. "What exactly do you envisage happening between us Mr Clarke?" she asked, it was always better to be direct, she thought "because now I know you didn't invite me here to talk about the Foundation."

"I want us to be friends," he lied, wanting so much more with this woman.

"Oh, yes, I forgot – you don't _want_ me at all do you?" she asked linking back to the conversation she had overheard on the beach.

"You weren't supposed to hear that, I didn't mean..."

"He was right you know, your face is so readable," she said, seeing desire in his eyes and feeling her own need produce a flame of very female desire inside her. He said nothing, knowing that this situation could not be salvaged. Anything he said now would be the wrong thing.

"Did you imagine that you could tempt me by being so completely opposite to Conrad, do you really think I've never experienced that before? Did you think your goodness would make me fall in love with you? Because as I've already explained – I can't fall in love Mr Clarke, it's not in my nature," she said getting up and smoothing out the creases in her purple dress.

When she was halfway to the door, he spoke, knowing that perhaps what he had to say was best left unsaid, but finding himself compelled by the feelings which welled inside him. "Do you know what he makes his employees sign? Do you know what he does when he's in the City and you're here, hosting parties alone? Do you know that Conrad is cheating on you, probably right now and do you realise that it's not Ok that he does that. God, look at you- if I was... you'd know such passion, such adoration..."

She stopped short turning back towards him and seeing all the truth of his emotions there in his eyes. "You're talking about the personal discretion disclosure I assume?" she asked watching him nod.

She had known about that document for years now and on occasion, Conrad's lusty business investors or employees taunted her with references to it in the hope that they could coax her into their beds, but she sensed that was not David's intention at all. He was simply honest and could not keep it from her. She also knew that he was sincere when he promised her passion and adoration, it was written all over his face. She suddenly found herself fighting back tears and the urge to fall into his arms right now. "You know, if Conrad were here, you would have just failed his test," she said with a sad smile. "Most of his employees would take that document to the grave," she added.

"I'm not 'most people' and the way he behaves towards you isn't right."

"No," she said "it isn't right," she hated the innate goodness he radiated; it would only make things worse for him. "I appreciate your honesty David, but I wasn't born yesterday," she said.

"You knew?" That fact seemed amazing to him, that a woman like her wouldn't react. She nodded. "So why do you stay with him?"

"He has Daniel, I could never leave him and besides without Conrad I'm afraid I'm just a socialite who once enjoyed some time on page six," she said distancing herself from him as she turned to leave.

He was on her in moments, taking her hand and brushing his slightly rough fingertips across her high cheekbone. "That's not true," he said, moving closer to her mouth, but she quickly pulled back.

"Look over those names, I've left some contact details and background information in the file, let me know if there's anything else I can do to help with your work on the Foundation," she said pulling her hand free from his "thank you for breakfast Mr Clarke," she said, suddenly distancing herself from him again.

After she was gone, he slid down to the floor thinking of all that had passed between them. He had laid himself on the line for her and had compromised Conrad and she had still walked away- as she had clearly told him she would. He had really screwed it up.

* * *

**Just because it's Friday, I'm on my way to party on for my end of degree celebration and therefore in an exceptionally good mood, I thought I'd post the next chapter for you. The next one will be a little different again, but will have hints of M rated content I think, just have to write it. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes – they are my own and I've tried to get rid of them all. **

**Thank you for reading! **

**Xx **


	7. What This Woman Wants

**Thank you for the reviews and interest on this one, they mean so much to me :-). Here's the next part for you which will up the romance, I promise. Sorry it's taken me a week to update, busy working week I'm afraid!**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_His hands were all over her. Her body was on fire. The second he touched her, she was ablaze. It had started so slowly, so hesitantly. Two fingers on her cheekbone, tracing its elegance, moving cautiously lower, running along her jaw and up to her plump lips. He hadn't needed to guide her towards his own mouth – she had found her own way there. Their lips had met in the singularly most passionate kiss she had ever shared with anyone. He was the master of the delicate balance between tenderness and firmness and she had been lost in the kiss since its beginning. After that first contact, they'd been unable to stop. The strap of her dress was caught at her elbow and its hem was hitched up. His skilled hands alternated between caressing the ample curve of her partially exposed cleavage to the soft warmth of her thighs. As she grappled with the buttons on his shirt, she tried to widen her legs, to encourage him to come closer – but he evaded her maddeningly. She heard the sound of frustration she made and berated herself, she could not let him see her undoing. She reached up for his lips to stifle any further slips but he was latched firmly onto her neck as his fingers worked their way up her leg to the place she wanted him most. She felt the very tips of his finger brush against her panties and held her breath waiting for... _

Victoria Grayson woke with a start, her body aching with desire for a release which had not come. After a minute or two, she dared to open her eyes wondering if the deeply erotic dream she had been enjoying had been witnessed by anyone else – namely her husband. She would not give him that satisfaction. A cursory glance around the bedroom told her she was alone and suddenly she was filled with disappointment. She couldn't have been happier that Conrad was absent, but she longed for the man who had penetrated her dreams. It had been a week since they had breakfasted together and fortunately life in the Hamptons had become busy enough that she had had a legitimate excuse to stay out of his way. Ever since those final moments in his beach house she had been plagued by the feel of his hand of her face, the closeness of his mouth to hers and she had been grateful for the distraction of the endless parties she had hosted this week which had prevented her from dwelling on her own emotions over his forwardness. Nothing however, could prevent him from creeping up on her in the long hours of the night – especially when she had foolishly looked out across her balcony last night and he was the last thing she'd seen, sitting alone on his veranda deep in thought, before she'd gone to sleep.

The dreams had started about four nights ago when, finding herself alone in bed again – Conrad being as he said 'tied up with work in the study' – she had finally let herself contemplate what she needed – not as Victoria Grayson who had everything she could possibly want – but as a woman who was neglected by the husband who came to her for sex when his mistresses were unavailable or when they had cause to celebrate a victory for the family. What did she need? The more she thought about it, the more she realised that what she desired, what she longed for more than anything was exactly what David Clarke had offered her last Tuesday – passion and adoration. More than anything, she craved the knowledge that she was wanted and, contrary to what he had told Carl Porter, one look into his honest eyes had told her that she was wanted by him. He desired her and on her loneliest nights, she allowed herself to want him too. Soon, her desire for him hadn't been confined to the nights and she found herself drifting away from the conversations she was privy to at her numerous parties – which usually concerned Hamptons real estate – and indulged herself by imagining the multitudinous ways he would take her, if only she would let him.

None of her imaginings however were worth anything. Not only did she fail to evoke just the right presence – the man who was conflicted by wanting her as a friend and wanting her as so much more- the man whose restraint was intensely attractive – but also she never achieved any satisfaction. She always woke tense and frustrated and this morning was no exception. She let herself fall back against the pillows as she stared up at the white ceiling. Running her hand first over her kiss starved lips and then moving towards the exact spot where a week ago his fingers had rested, she found that if she concentrated very hard, she could still feel his touch etched there. After several long minutes, she gave up hope of ever finding the satiation she needed and threw back the quilt, moving quickly to the en-suite. Perhaps a shower would help. God knew she had to distract herself somehow – especially with the ladies' soiree she was hosting this afternoon. The last thing she needed was to be the subject of any more gossip.

Stripping out of her negligee she set the water to cool and stepped in. For a few blissful minutes she thought she had solved her problem – at least for today, but suddenly she became all too aware of her body and the way she ached for a man's touch, for David Clarke's touch. The cool water just made her body even more sensitive than it had been when she had woken and she could not help but let her own hands trace her curves in an attempt to offer herself some relief. Nothing worked. She could not fool herself. She knew there was no way she could do for herself what she needed him to. Crying out in frustration again she fisted her hand and punched the shower off. Something had to be done about this. Today.

* * *

Making her way downstairs, Victoria was met in the foyer by Conrad, who carried not only his usual briefcase but also a small suitcase which both incensed her and filled her with a thrill of hope.

"Ah Victoria, there you are," he greeted her, straightening his tie and meeting her eyes in the mirror as she came down the last step. "I was just going to come see you," he lied with a smile which no longer worked on her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't up right away Conrad" she said bitterly. "It's been a busy week with all those parties," she told him with near-undetectable resentment.

"I should have had some tea sent up," he feigned concern for her.

"Or maybe you should learn to say no to opening our home every now and then," she said with the half laugh she had perfected. _I hate this but I don't want you to know I hate this. _

He shot her a bemused expression in reply and she widened her smile, just a little, feeling the strain of it at the corner of her mouth. "Going somewhere?" she asked breezily as she joined him by the door.

"I have to fly out to Vancouver – you know how our associates can be," he said and there was something in his eyes which told her the truth he omitted.

"Oh I know," she smiled again "and you'll be back when?"

"I'll have to confirm that once I'm there. Mr Jenkins can be a tricky one to play," he said avoiding eye contact.

"I'm sure he is," she agreed.

"Good luck with the ladies later," he said.

"Luck's over-rated Conrad, surely _you_ know that. Besides, these women have been coming to this party for years, I know how to handle them," she said tightly.

"Of course," he said, placing a hand on the small of her back. "Well..." there was an awkward moment wherein he didn't seem to be able to find words. "Goodbye Victoria," he settled on after a while, leaning in to kiss her. She allowed it, but pulled away quickly.

"Margarita? I'll take breakfast in the conservatory," she said, sensing the presence of his pining little mistress lurking. She did not stay to watch him go.

* * *

The sun was high and strong today, it's rays beat down upon all those on the beach and David lifted his face towards the heat, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. Amanda was finishing up the sandwich he had made for her to his left and in a few minutes she would ask him to go into the water with her. Thinking back to _that _summer, he hardly found it surprising that Amanda feared going into the water alone. She needed his assurance and protection both of which he would give to her unconditionally.

True to his prediction Amanda was up in minutes, catching the edge of her towel and sending a spray of sand in his direction as she bounded towards the sea yelling at him to hurry up. Racing across the beach in pursuit of his lightning-fast daughter and then breathing in as the cold rush of the water greeted him, he felt joy unbounded for the first time in a week. As he stood thigh deep in the sea, twirling Amanda around again and again at her own request, he did not feel the desire to look up towards the overbearing manor house and did not even notice the pull its mistress seemed to have on his thoughts. Today was all about Amanda, just the way it should be.

* * *

Hours later, a orange glow had begun to descend across the beach. Carrying all their beach gear in one hand, he kept the other on Amanda's shoulder as he guided her towards the house. It was moments like this when she was wrapped up in her towel so tightly that only her eyes could be seen peeping out that he wished he took more photographs – captured that innocence before it disappeared. As they got off the beach and walked up the small incline towards the beach front properties, he began to experience the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. He resolved to keep looking ahead, not wanting anything to ruin the happiness he had felt today, but then the notion of being watched became too powerful. With a sigh, he lifted his eyes towards the place where he could sense his observer. Sure enough she was there, sitting on her balcony looking right down onto his veranda, sipping a cup of tea with resolute coldness. It was no use he thought to himself as he ushered Amanda inside, he didn't want her any less. Their gazes met for several seconds before he broke the tense eye contact and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Restlessly, she waited. She had to let an appropriate amount of time pass before she ventured down to his house. She was a woman of dignity and she did not want it to appear as if her only employment that day had been waiting for his return. Of course, this was closer to the truth than she would admit. After taking a silent breakfast and lonely lunch in the big house, she had checked the arrangements for this afternoon with her assistant and then retreated upstairs to get dressed but even that hadn't been enough to distract her for long. Her high ponytail and conservative black and white dress paired with her favourite black heels had completed her efforts at the self imposed monochrome theme and she'd been left at a loose end. Her next party wasn't until a week on Thursday and the arrangements were already in stone so she'd had no choice- or so she told herself- but go out onto the balcony, searching the beach for the object of her desire. The moment she'd seen him splashing about in the water she'd been consumed by the bubbling of lust in her stomach and now she was so tightly wound she knew it wouldn't take much to make her fall over the edge. After several minutes she disappeared back into her bedroom...

He'd left the thin curtains which usually covered the French doors at the front of the house pushed back and so, as she knocked and waited she had a clear view into the living area, it was disappointingly empty but she did not have to wait for long. Amanda came bounding to the door and threw it open with a wide smile.

"Victoria!" she seemed genuinely excited to see her and the woman couldn't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity with which the girl addressed her. She had always longed for a daughter, but she would never give Conrad the satisfaction of seeing her beg. With a sad wistful thought in those few seconds after the greeting, she realised that Daniel was destined to be an only child.

"Amanda, hello," she said thinking back to last Monday and the way the child had tottered around in the very shoes she was now wearing, it was a nice thought. "May I speak to your father please?" she asked, peering behind her into the house.

"Daddy's in the shower, but you can wait if you want," Amanda shrugged stepping back and inviting her into the kitchen.

Victoria stood a little awkwardly beside the breakfast island as Amanda hopped back up onto the stool and went back to the sheet of paper she'd clearly been working on. Sitting there in her matching towelling shorts and sweater, she looked incredibly small and vulnerable and she felt a twinge of unexplainable guilt. "What're you working on?" she said trying to spark a conversation which would distract her from the fact that David was upstairs in the shower.

"A pirate treasure map for me and Jack, I'm going to the stowaway for a camp out tonight," Amanda explained hurriedly adding flourishes to her drawing with her markers.

"Oh you are?" Victoria tried to keep her voice level but this new information made her pulse race. "How nice," she said waiting even more tensely for the appearance of Amanda's father.

A few minutes later she heard footsteps descending on the staircase and steeled herself for his arrival into the kitchen.

"Amanda? Are you alright?" he was calling not far away. "I thought I heard..." he broke off as he pushed the door opened and set eyes on Victoria Grayson.

Victoria's breath caught in her throat as she noticed what he was wearing, or rather what he _wasn't. _Dressed only in linen slacks, he was rubbing at his wet hair with a towel, but the second he laid eyes on her, the action had become suspended. "Victoria..." he murmured after a moment and the way he said her name sent a shiver up her spine. "Hi," he smiled and once more she was lost.

She smiled back but not so openly, she still did not know how to be around him. Tension sizzled between them and perceptive as only a child could be, Amanda was quick to notice it. "Daaad..." she said dragging his attention back from the far off place it suddenly gone to, "you forgot your shirt," she giggled and the fact that this had been noted by his young daughter only made Victoria more aware of it. Unconsciously she let her eyes flick from his face down to his well toned torso and just a little lower still, until she could feel a violent blush colouring her cheeks.

"Yes, thank you for that," he replied trying to maintain a barbed tone with his daughter but letting the humour of the situation creep in.

"You're welcome," she gave him a toothy smile and poked her tongue out at him.

"Hey honey, why don't you go check you have everything packed for your adventure with Jack?"

"I haven't finished my drawing," she said her eyes flickering with understanding beyond her years.

"Amanda, please, I'll be five minutes. It's only boring adult stuff about the Foundation I'm working for – remember I told you?"

"Ok," she sighed hitting the floor with a slap of her sandals as was her tendency when she was disheartened. As she made it to the door, he called out her.

"Hey, Princess Amanda, I love you," he said.

"Love you too Dad," she smiled knowing that everything was fine between them and disappearing out of the kitchen.

* * *

David laughed a little to himself, appreciating his daughter more than he thought he ever could as he wiped the last of the water droplets from his neck and turned back towards his house guest. "What can I do for you Victoria?" he asked and she could sense tension in his voice she'd not heard yet. "Is there a problem with the Foundation you need me to sort out?" he enforced the very business- like nature of their relationship, she couldn't blame him, she'd told him she wanted that and nothing more last week, he was just trying to do what she wanted. Of course he had no way to know that she had changed her mind, drastically.

"No," she said the word shaking. "I just thought I would drop by," she smiled tightly, not knowing quite how to broach the subject.

"Hold on," he said raising a hand to silence any further elaboration "I think we have a spy in our midst," he smiled throwing open the door and causing Amanda to almost fall into him.

She looked up with wide eyes as if afraid of his reaction but then noticed his smile and returned it. "Princess Amanda," he said his voice loud and booming "I hereby banish you from the Court of David and Queen Victoria," he paused noting that she was very regal and she did indeed seem to be Queen-like. "You been caught spying, how do you plead?" he asked and Victoria thought this was probably a routine they had been through often.

"Guilty!" she squealed waiting for his next response.

"Then I sentence you to an adventure with the known pirate Jack Porter at the stowaway – now go – pack your bag and prepare to depart!" he said chasing her from the room and up the stairs.

* * *

When he returned, Victoria was stood by the window looking out onto the beach. "Sorry about that," he said.

She turned towards him "She's great, really she is," she said.

"Where have you been this past week Victoria?" he asked quietly. When she did not respond, he continued "I was beginning to think those pancakes had given you food poisoning or something," he tried to laugh but it didn't sound right.

"Of course they didn't. I've just been busy with meetings and parties, I'm always busy Mr Clarke," she repeated a phrase she'd uttered a week ago and he couldn't help but notice the re-formalisation of her use of his surname. "Or had you forgotten that I'm a woman in season?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"No," he smiled looking towards the ground "look, Victoria, is there something in particular I can help you with?" he asked, struggling to work out why she was here.

She moved closer to him, so close that he was forced to look up into those unfathomable, beautiful eyes. "Yes," she murmured her hand sliding down to his and raising it towards her. She bent her head a little and pressed a chaste kiss to his wrist. Her lips tingled as they connected with his flesh and her body came alive all over again. He drew in a breath but didn't say anything; he could not find appropriate words to express what he was feeling. "I want it Mr Clarke," she breathed, her words barely audible.

He was silent for a moment as he tried to solve the puzzle she presented to him with her words "It?" he asked, defeated by her, as always.

"What you spoke about," she said not daring to touch him again "passion..." she started and he interrupted her.

"Adoration," he added.

"Yes," she sighed, relieved that he hadn't thrown her out of the house immediately.

"Tonight..." he started, wondering if he was being too forward "Amanda is having..."

"A campout at the stowaway, she mentioned it," she said. "Conrad's away on business in Vancouver," she added by way of explanation for her own initiation of this liaison.

"Well... then..." he encouraged and she nodded.

"I have a ladies' gathering this afternoon, I'll be done after five," she said.

"Amanda is expected at the stowaway at six," he said.

"Then seven?" she asked calculating the time she would need to get ready and to slip out of the house undetected by Conrad's many spies.

He nodded and lead her towards the door. Why did he feel like he'd just struck a lucrative business deal rather than arranged a passionate liaison with the woman he wanted? She had a way of making him feel confused like that – like he never knew where he stood or quite what she wanted.

As he let her out onto the veranda he spoke up with the question he needed answering "What exactly is our _arrangement _Victoria?" he asked thinking back to the way she'd spoken about her marriage to Conrad.

She paused a moment, turning back to him with a small smile "there isn't one..." she said mysteriously "I just want _you_ Mr Clarke," she said and then she was gone leaving him dumbfounded on the veranda...

* * *

**Well, I know it was a little longer but I hope you liked it. I wanted to push this more towards the romance so the next chapter will be (as some of you have so aptly put it) the hook up, which I'm about to start working on in the hope that it will be ready for later today. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, I've tried my best with them. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Xx **


	8. I Could Love You

**Hey, **

**Thank you for all the reviews and interest in this one, they mean a lot. Sorry my updates have fallen a little by the way-side recently, but then this is a little more like me – real life getting in the way. Anyway here's the first M rated piece of this story for your enjoyment. P.S, sorry it's taken me so long - tough working week! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He was all too aware of the time: seven 'o' clock, a quarter after, half after. She was late. Of course after last week's breakfast there was every chance that this was another of her parlour tricks, another attempt to remind him that she belonged here and he did not. He tried not to dwell on this possibility as he focused on convincing himself that her party had simply over run or there was some pressing piece of partying planning which needed her devout attention. Realistically he knew he had to consider the ultimate alternative – that she was not coming at all. After all, everything about the exchange they had shared short hours ago seemed dream-like to him. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that she would be the one to proposition him, especially after the way things had been left a week ago, but that was exactly what had happened and there had been something in her eyes and in the way she had pressed that simultaneously chaste and yet longing kiss to his wrist which told him that her own feelings towards him mirrored those he harboured for her. He adjusted his collar again, desperate to find any occupation which would stop him recklessly heading over to Grayson manor – that simply would not do. He wondered how long he could feasibly wait before surrendering to the knowledge that she had lead him on.

He poured himself a scotch, swirling the liquor around his glass once before draining it. Instead of calming his nerves, the drink only seemed to make them jump and he was ashamed to think that when he heard a short, sharp rap on the door a few minutes later, he flinched. He crossed the room quickly, the alcohol seeming to propel him forward and pulled back the curtain, opening the door to his tardy house guest. Perhaps he had planned on saying something witty about her lateness, a play on words such as she had used a week ago, but the moment he laid eyes on her, all sense of fight went out of him and he was lost to her.

Dressed in a bright red dress, she looked as if her whole body was ablaze. He wondered briefly if it represented a metaphor of her desires. In the case of a woman like her, he wouldn't put it past her. She was stunning, more arresting than she had ever been and he wanted to take her right where she stood. It was moments like these that he lamented his gentlemanly tendencies. Neither spoke as she stepped inside, instead they simply stood opposite one another, the tense exchange of glances saying everything they could not with words.

"Victoria," he breathed after a while and she still could not get over the way he said her name. There was something so unsettling about that single word uttered in his tone which spoke of relief and desperation, gratitude and passion. Never had a man intrigued her the way David Clarke did and his use of her name was fast proving to be the single most erotic thing she knew. That she could be undone by him in this most simple way terrified and excited her in equal measure.

"David," she said, taking care not to betray her own emotions. "I'm sorry I'm not quite on time. I was unavoidably detained by a phone call from my husband," she said, thinking back to the inquisition she had just undergone.

"That's alright, I understand. Amanda was running a little late anyway," he lied. She had seen him leave the house at precisely ten minutes to six from her balcony as she'd changed out of one dress and into her current ensemble. "I hope the party went well?"

She smiled, a small scoff escaping her. "Three hours in the company of the same six women every year for five years. You can imagine my feeling of elation."

He gave a little laugh not sure what the appropriate response was. "Sounds like you could use a drink," he said after a moment.

"As long as you're not going to offer me sweet tea," she gave a tight laugh and blew out a breath as he moved towards the bureaux. "It seems you started without me," she commented, noticing the glass already filled there.

"Passing the time," he said nonchalantly as he silently signalled the scotch, wondering if she ever touched the stuff. She nodded. He poured. Their silence was loud.

He crossed the room to where she stood just inside the door looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Please, have a seat," he said handing her the drink.

"Thank you," she replied in response to both his gestures. She sipped and tried not to look at him, his eyes had a way of boring into her which made her feel incredibly exposed. She ran her free hand over her upper arm, feeling a shiver of desire rising within her.

"That's a great dress," he said taking the armchair opposite the one she had chosen.

"Thank you," she said again and he wondered if she planned on saying anything else. "There's something we need to discuss Mr Clarke, before..." she trailed off, her words becoming lost in another sip and he started to worry that she'd changed her mind – the formalisation of his name was enough of a threat.

"David," he corrected, sipping his own drink and meeting her gaze. She held it for a moment but then blushed and looked away.

"David," she murmured her voice softer now.

"What is it – this thing we need to discuss?"

"I want to talk about what's going to happen between us," she said frankly. He was surprised.

"I thought you said there wasn't going to be an arrangement between us?"

"Perhaps not an arrangement, rather an understanding," she said.

"An understanding?"

"Yes, you see David, I've been here before," she started, taking another distracted sip whilst he experienced a sinking feeling. Of course she'd been here before. How could he have expected a woman like her not to have had affairs, but to mention them so openly in front of him? That took gumption, something he knew this woman had by the bucket-load. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "Don't mistake me, I've never been... _unfaithful _to my husband before, this will be a first for me, for my sins... but I've had the opportunity, _many _times," she broke off, her eyes downcast.

"But you never acted on those opportunities?" he asked, intrigued now.

"No. The thing is those men, most of them my husband's business associates – share holders, investors - the occasional employee," she paused noting the pertinence of that last one to David Clarke "most of them just liked the idea of me. They didn't want me, not really. The thrill for them was what I am not who I am. I'm Conrad's wife. By seducing me they thought they would get to have a taste of his life, but more than that they wanted to have something that belongs to him... if indeed I do. It was never about true desire or feelings. It was always about Conrad, it always will be and you should know that whatever your intentions might be, I will never leave him. He made me, he governs our son and he could destroy me in the blink of an eye," she said and he saw the heaviness of her heart reflected in her eyes.

"What do you want me to say to that?" he asked wondering why she was even here if her mind was already made up.

"You don't have to say anything; I was just trying to be honest with you. It's a quality I admire in you," she said.

"So telling me that any feelings which might develop between us are futile is supposed to make me feel better?" he asked in disbelief.

"Feelings don't really enter the equation, don't you see? That's what I've been trying to tell you. I know this is about Conrad, I accept that."

"Conrad? You think I'm like all those other men – that this is about besting your husband? It really has been a long time since you've known love hasn't it?" he replied, emotion coiling in his throat and making his voice break. "Do you really think that if this was about him, if I wanted to use you like the others I would have risked my new employment – the contract for which was less than a day old - to tell what he had me sign? I..." he broke off, anger clouding his judgement as he got off his chair coming to kneel in front of her "I want _you_. Not your name, not your status. Only_ you_ Victoria," he tried to assure her but he could see only deadness in her eyes.

"It's too dangerous," she murmured. "_I'm _dangerous," she said standing up and forcing him away.

"Dangerous?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and wondering how they had ended up here again.

"I told you, we're monsters, _I'm_ a monster."

"We don't believe in monsters in this house," he quipped, his challenge to her clear.

"Then you'll be the one who is hurt by this."

"How? How exactly are you going to hurt me Victoria? You drop all these hints but when it comes down to it, you never tell me how I'll be hurt," he said feeling rare anger beginning to swell inside him again.

"You wouldn't listen, you just don't see..."

"See? You want to know what I see Victoria?" he asked squaring up to her. "I see a woman who is afraid of herself – of what she wants. You want _me_? I'm right here," he said waiting a few moments to see how she would respond before he turned from her, disappearing up the staircase.

* * *

Alone in the living room Victoria was trying to calm herself. Her heart raced and her breathing was raggedly erratic. Even arguing with this man stirred intensely erotic sensations within her and she felt the knot of her own desire twist in her stomach again. Was she really going to leave here dissatisfied...again? Was she going to let him get away with talking to her that way? No one challenged Victoria Grayson without paying for it and she knew the exact price. Taking one final steadying breath, she began to ascend the staircase in lustful pursuit of the man who had turned her life upside down...

* * *

The upper floor of the beach house was quiet and she was all too aware of the sound of her platforms against the hardwood floor. She certainly lacked the element of surprise, but then she wondered if his departure was his theatrical attempt to show her that she wasn't the only one capable of controlling this situation. She passed two closed doors and couldn't resist peering around the door of the room which proudly displayed a placard declaring that it was 'Amanda's Room'. She felt a small smile creep onto her lips as she cast her eyes around the room, buying herself a moment's further composure before she headed to her destination, a room at the end of the hall – the door of which was ajar whilst a small glow filtered onto the landing.

He was facing the window at the far end of the room looking out to the wild waves as she entered not knowing what to say. She was sure she noticed him turn his head minutely towards her, but in the limited light, absolute certainty was impossible. Standing half in and half out of the room, she knew he was silently requesting that she make a decision – either she made the first move or she left. Taking another breath, she spoke.

"I'm not afraid," her voice was a lot huskier than she had ever intended it to be, a sign of her body's true desire for him.

He swallowed before replying, "you don't trust," he said. "You don't trust me."

"They're not the same thing. My inability to trust does not equal fear."

"It was your decision to come here tonight," he spoke up after a moment's quiet contemplation. "I just don't understand it."

She paused knowing that is she was ever going to have the kind of relationship she craved with this man, she would have to share a little of herself.

"I've been hurt too much by men David," she admitted. "I know what hurt feels like, I don't want to be the cause of any hurt to you... or Amanda."

"The monster has a heart?" he quipped, regretting it instantly.

She was silent. She probably deserved that one. Stepping into the room and heading towards him, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this doesn't make sense, but I'm only trying to protect you," she said heavily.

"I moved to Southampton Victoria, I wasn't born yesterday," he said, allowing his hand to slide up to where hers rested, feeling delight when she did not try to pull away,

"I know," she murmured as he gripped her fingers and drew her hand to his mouth.

"I'm also not him," he added, using his new hold on her to pull her around to face him. She shook beneath his touch.

"I know," she said shakily.

"You know..." he breathed, his fingers tracing her cheek bone and daringly venturing lower until his thumb brushed her full painted lips. "I could love you, if you'd let me," he whispered and he heard her swallow hard in response. He knew he shouldn't be playing with fire like this, throwing that word around when she was so against it, but this woman did something to him which made him forget himself.

She flicked her eyes closed as his thumb slid its way along her plump, kiss- starved lower lip, teasing her with the promise of his kiss. "That's what scares me the most," she trembled; glad that he could not see the pain in her eyes.

"You don't have to be afraid," he mumbled sliding his hand from her lips to her neck and dragging her mouth onto his.

* * *

Their lips met in a kiss more tender than she had experienced for years. He was soft and gentle, his mouth pressing against hers eagerly yet without demand. He was tentative, exploratory and like her, it seemed he half expected her to push him off but now that she had experienced this, ending their kiss was the furthest thing from her mind. He did not pressurise her, letting her come to him and she appreciated his chivalry, but quickly found that she wanted more. It was her tongue which darted out, making contact with the closed barrier of his lips, asking him to engage her in the passionate dancing kiss she knew they were capable of. He accepted without hesitation and she felt herself release the moan she had been hearing in her dreams as he slid his arms to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. As she felt his skilled hands beginning to roam their way across her body – sculpting the curves of her hips and caressing the swell of her pert bottom -she finally allowed herself to begin exploring his body. Sliding her hands into the limited space between them she fisted his shirt between her fingers and tried desperately to pop the buttons but her inability to see what she was doing hindered her goal. She let out a frustrated moan which he caught in his kiss and she felt him smile against her mouth – something which incensed her further.

Soon, she began to feel the heady rush caused by a lack of oxygen but there was absolutely no way she was going to relinquish this kiss – it was too passionate, too terrifying and she did not know what would happen if they broke it now. Acutely, she became aware that she was being manoeuvred but she found that contrary to her expectations, she was wholly unable to resist. There was little more she could do than allow him to lead her wherever he bid. Surprisingly in only a few short moments, she felt her back hit the wall behind her and was unable to stifle the gasp which escaped her, effectively breaking their kiss. More was the pity.

She kept her eyes squeezed shut for a while longer as she felt his fingers tracing her cheekbone again before they slid up to her hair and reached for the pin which held her simple chignon in place. Seconds later her dark mane was tumbling free and he was arranging the stray waves which framed her face. His touch was so feather light but she never wanted it to end, he was like a drug she had just discovered and she wondered if she would ever get enough. He leaned in again, pressing a chaste kiss to her swollen, lipstick-smudged lips before he dropped his lips to her jaw and kissed his way upwards. In her overly sensitive state, every brush of his slight stubble against her skin set her pulse racing just a little faster. As she became aware of his teeth closing around her ear lobe, she let out a delighted mewl and silently berated herself for being so free with her reaction to this man. His deep rumbling laugh tickled at her skin and suddenly it didn't matter that she was behaving loosely, she would enjoy this night and she would enjoy this man – that much she owed to herself.

"Victoria..." he muttered "you are _exquisite,"_ he said, his lips retracing their previous path and making their way down her neck. She knew she should say something but nothing seemed to come to mind. All she could was stand before him, her body aching in a way she had forgotten it could as he teased her with his lips.

As his lips left her throat and began sculpting the crest of her breasts, his tongue darting out and dipping into the valley between them, she threw her head off to the side, her hand winding into her own hair as she fought the urge to cry out his name even now. His hand moved from where it had been resting for some time on her hip, making its way behind her to reach for the zipper on her dress. Her body was screaming, her desire burning her with his every touch and though she remained silent she felt herself desperately willing him to continue. Frustratingly however, he halted his every attention, even taking a step back. When eventually she forced herself to open her eyes, she saw the pain of a tortured man staring back at her.

"What is it?" she asked, hardly recognising her own voice.

"If we do this..." he started, struggling to meet her gaze "I need to know, I _have_ to know that it's what you want," he said, his breathing heavy with forced restraint.

In answer she fisted his shirt in her hands, dragging him back towards her and pressing her lips firmly against his before she pulled back a little, her fingers reaching for those elusive, maddening buttons. His skin became revealed to her little by little and as she hungrily devoured his torso with her eyes, she remembered why she had been so stirred when he had appeared shirtless this afternoon. He was incredibly sexy. His skin was tanned and his chest was dusted with just the right amount of hair. She was overcome by the desire to shower her appreciation of him onto him with her lips, but the angle she currently found herself in made that difficult. Instead she satisfied herself with allowing her hands to roam his wonderful torso, gaining incredible satisfaction from the way his muscles contracted beneath her touch. After a while she let her fingers venture lower until they brushed against the front of his slacks. She was just about to attend to the fastening when he caught hold of her hands drawing them to his lips and dropping a kiss to them.

"Not yet," he said quietly, his own hands moving back to the zipper on her dress. She made to protest but stopped herself, drawing her lip between her teeth.

"Get the lights," she murmured, her voice shaking with something he could not understand.

"Why?"

"Please, just get the lights. I'll be... better with the lights off," she said and he almost couldn't believe that she had. How could this woman, this beautiful woman be insecure?

"I won't," he said, reaching for her lips again but she pulled away indignantly.

"Get the lights," she repeated "please," the way she said that word, so imploringly made him more determined that he would not comply.

"No. Victoria I want to see you," he said, his voice brimming with the truth of his words.

"Why?" she asked "so you can herald this night over Conrad?"

"I thought we discussed this?" he said turning her head back towards him "This is about you. I want to see the beautiful woman I intend to make love to," he told her, not stopping to consider whether he had said too much.

Victoria felt her heart skip a beat. She was not about to melt where she stood at his mention of 'making love', she was not after all a giggling school girl, but it had been a long time since a man had made love to her with his words the way David Clarke was and an even longer time since sex had been emotional for her. Since no verbal response seemed to be suitable she caught his lips again and encouraged his hands to slide back to her zipper. "Do it," she begged needing to be free of the confines of her dress more than it felt she had ever needed anything. "Please."

That word and the way she said it would forever be his motivation and, breathing heavily, he allowed his fingers to close around the zipper, the sound of its descent the only one in the tense silence. Watching the straps of her dress fall to her elbows he instantly sought the softness of her skin again, kissing his way along her elegant collarbone and down, further and further still until her dress was caught on her hips and his field of vision was consumed by the strapless red bustier she wore. The woman on fire.

"Victoria," he muttered, unable to think of anything else to say. His fingers traced the lace which covered her breasts, taking note of her pebbled hardness before he skimmed lower, feeling the boned silk which disappeared beneath her dress. Feeling that only one thing was appropriate or satisfying to him, he knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're sure?" he asked, not because he didn't already know the answer but because it was the gentlemanly thing for him to do. As he slid his hand up her calf, caressing the silky smooth skin there, she nodded, swallowing hard as his hand travelled up to her knee. "Take it off," he instructed signalling to her dress, his hand already disappearing beneath the slackened fabric and heading up her thigh.

* * *

She felt her breath tightening in her chest as he moved higher, showing no signs of stopping and although he had given her clear instructions, she could not seem to focus enough to get a good grip on the zipper. Momentarily it seemed like his attentions had stopped and she became able to slide the zip down, hearing the fabric rumple as it fell to the floor, she let out a sigh of relief. Using his shoulders for support she allowed him to shed the dress, not caring when he tossed it to one side, hundreds of dollars unnecessary and discarded. For a few moments they simply stared at each other, the intensity of what was happening overwhelming them. She was stunning. Her lips were swollen, her hair dishevelled and her pupils dilated. He wanted her so much but he had vowed that he would show her pleasure and passion and he did not want to sacrifice this for a quicker release. He could wait. It would only make it sweeter.

Shifting closer to her on his knees, he ran his hand up her left ankle, caressing her calf and drawing himself towards her inner thigh to which he pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss. "Beautiful," he muttered against her skin feeling her shudder. Her gaze was intense and powerful, so much so that it almost unsettled him but he found his saving grace in the emotions he could see welling in her eyes. The seemingly impenetrable vaults which had so often in their short acquaintance returned his adoration with only coldness now betrayed the sheer joy she felt and could only hint at the passion she was capable of. He pressed kisses higher and higher still until he felt his fingers close around the bright red lace-fronted panties which barely covered her very femininity. Using his thumbs, he drew her underwear down her long limbs and once again helped her shed them.

Hardly daring to move the two of them stood in tense silence, waiting for the other to make the first move. Watching her chest heave from his unusual vantage point, David felt a smile creeping onto his lips. She was truly incredible, her resolution and the defiant way she stared at him, daring him to go further made him more determined to bring about her undoing. Following the same path as he had only minutes before, he teased her for few moments, exercising the greatest restraint as he waited for her reaction. As his finger made those first tentative explorations, he heard the slightest tightening of her breathing and began to understand that it was going to take some work to bring this woman her crescendo.

"Oh God," the words tumbled involuntarily from her lips as he dipped into her, acquainting himself with her warmth. "Oh David," she said only moments later and he couldn't help but smile at the way she said his name.

He continued his teasing ministrations silently a while longer, delighting in the increasing response he was gaining from her. What had started out as a change in her breathing quickly escalated to soft sounds of pleasure and were now evolving into small cries of elation. What arrested his attention more than this however was the way she had thrown her head off to the side again, her lips catching on her elbow as she tried to control herself. The image of her struggle against the dual forces of release and resistance almost made him abandon his present employment in order to take her, but he had made himself a promise and he would not break it. Not even if she tempted him this way.

"David," she murmured, forcing herself to meet his gaze again and feeling an intense blush staining her cheeks as she saw the strength of his desires on his oh-so-readable face. "I... I have been on fire for you all week," she admitted brazenly not caring that she had never planned for him to know just how much she had been thinking of him.

He smiled unashamedly again because the fact that she had even raised the subject was an achievement, he knew. "I'd never have known," he said, his deep rumbling laugh turning her on insanely as he thrust two fingers into the blazing heat of her.

* * *

Her breath left her in a rush of air as he filled her and she felt her body beginning to tighten around him already, betraying just how long it had been since she had been touched, never mind since she had felt release. Still, she was no first-timer and he would not break her so easily, she would make sure of that. He worked her with a tireless commitment, changing the pressure he applied or the way he touched her, but still she refused to be broken. As he looked up at her, he noticed that her eyes were closed and her face twisted into such a beautiful expression of pleasured pain that he knew she must be close, but she would not respond to her body's cry for release. He knew that if she continued to resist in this way, her climax would hit her hard, it would surprise her and it would likely rock her entire body – but he couldn't help wondering if that was what she desired.

"Please," she begged after a while and he was uncertain whether she spoke to him or more to herself.

"It's alright Victoria," he murmured "I've got you, let go," he implored knowing that her refusal to listen to the pleas of her own body had to be causing her pain right now. Leaning forward slightly he began to press kisses to her inner thigh again, his finger slowly retracting from her body, causing her eyes to fly open and search his for an explanation. Just when it seemed she was about to say something to him, he surged forward and pressed a kiss to her very centre. The last thing he saw before he returned his concentration solely to her pleasure was the delicious 'O' shape her mouth made upon his invasion.

He kissed her tenderly, pressing his mouth into her intimacy, pulling back and plunging in to a rhythm even he was unsure of. After a few minutes he let his tongue flick out to taste her, to accept all the passion which flowed through her body. He could feel her pulsating around him, but more importantly he could hear the sounds of ecstasy and felt her body begin to give way to him. Soon her body was trembling and he heard the wonderful exultation of his name on her lips as she surrendered to the release he had brought about for her.

* * *

Victoria was spent; she could barely think straight and was only acutely aware of the presence of her legs. She had tried to resist, she had tried to hold out – to make him understand that she was the powerful one, but in the end he had broken her and the feeling she had experienced on her joyride was unparalleled. She felt contentment such as she had not found for many years but still she was dissatisfied. In her weakened state she felt her knees begin to buckle and instead of fighting it, she simply went with the feeling of being rendered powerless, falling from her upright position and collapsing into him.

* * *

He held her tenderly, brushing her hair from her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She took the necessary minutes to recover herself, but then used her new position to her advantage. Finding her way to her knees she planted her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back until he was in a semi-sitting position which perfectly allowed her to straddle him. Doing just that, she ensured that her bareness was pressed directly over the alarming hardness contained in his slacks. Leaning forward, her hair brushing against his chest and making his breathing constrict, she went for his lips again, craving another of his kisses. Pressing her mouth to his, she tasted her own sweet-spice but this was no deterrent. Once again she found herself quickly intoxicated by him and found that still un-satiated desire rising up within her. Realising the limitations of this position for them, she let out a moan of frustration and beat her palms against his chest.

"Ssh...Ssh," he soothed, kissing her again but kisses were not what she wanted now.

Reaching her hands behind her, she went for the hooks on her bustier, but again his hands stopped her for going any further. "Not here. Not like this," he told her and gathering her body close, he helped them both to their feet. Walking the short distance to the bed shakily, she sat on the edge, aching for him more than she had for anything. Crouching before her again, her reached behind her and unfastened the first of the hooks on her bustier, but this time it was her who stopped him.

"You first," she said leaning forward and tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth as she reached down and popped the button on his slacks. Getting up from his somewhat awkward position he stood before her, letting her strip him of his pants. Her eyes devoured his now almost fully exposed body and yet he felt strangely exhilarated by the liberation of it.

"Victoria," he muttered as she pulled him closer to her, creating a space between her legs as she toyed with the waistband of his underwear before delving her hand inside. "I want you so much," he said, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Patience," she replied, springing him free of his cotton confines and running her hand along his potent desire.

Stroked him a few times, teasing him to the point of distraction as he had done to her before she released him, leaving him completely unfulfilled and exposed. Reaching behind herself again she snapped open the hooks on her bustier two at a time, discarding the fine-boned silk garment somewhere off to her left before she shimmied up the bed and arranged herself for the taking.

He was astounded by her. Every inch of her was pure perfection and he was enjoying the show she was putting on for him, but he wanted more, wanted her – all of her. He followed her onto the bed, settling himself beside her as he began to caress her bountiful curves and draw her breast into his mouth. She let him tease her this way for a while but found that her desire to have him inside of her was just too overwhelming. Shifting against him she forced him onto his back, securing his roaming hands above his head with one hand as she placed her knees on either side of his thighs and began to lower herself onto him.

"Wait... I don't have..." he started but his words were lost as she sank onto him. Both of them were motionless in the moments following their union. No words seemed appropriate to describe the feeling of sheer elation they felt as their passionate encounter culminated in this way.

As she looked down at him, feeling his hands on her hips, his thumbs running over the soft skin there, she could see pain on his face and dipped her head so that she could kiss it away. "It doesn't matter David, I want to feel you," she mumbled against his lips as she began to move against him, already feeling her sensitive body beginning to react to him.

* * *

He reached his climax first, probably she reasoned, as a result of her failure to finish him before he had entered her but as he spilled all of his passion and adoration into her, she felt a sense of completeness she didn't think she'd ever truly felt with Conrad. She rode him for a few minutes more before she too became consumed by a white hot thrill of oblivion. She collapsed towards him, taking her weight on her palms as she tried to steady her breathing.

"You," he said minutes later "are beautiful," he finished as she climbed off him and settled her head on the pillow next to him.

"Well Mr Clarke," she said after a while, a smile firmly on her face "it seems you are very true to your word," finished thinking about the promise of passion and adoration he had made her.

"Oh, you haven't seen the half of it yet," he said, reaching for her and rolling her beneath him in one swift motion.

* * *

They had lasted longer the second time having satiated their lustful thirst the first time around. They had taken their time to explore one another, to learn the body of the other and had made love, slowly and tenderly but now they were truly spent. She was curled in the arc of his body and he ran a hand up her arm, making small circular patterns on the skin there in a soothing manner. As minutes turned into an hour she had to wonder when this would end. Throughout her whole life, she'd only ever been with one man who'd held her close after sex and it almost went without saying that that man had not been Conrad Grayson. Now that David had satisfied his desires, now that she had surrendered herself to him, she fully expected that he would discard her and soon.

Time ticked by and the sky went from blue to black but still he did not ask her to leave, in her silence she was overwhelmed by his tenderness. "David?" she spoke after a while, needing to say something, to be sure.

"Mm?" he hummed sleepily.

"Can I stay tonight?"

He opened his eyes then, surprised by her question. Sitting up a little he turned to face her, finding himself endeared by the way she bit her lip. "Isn't that what you're doing?" he asked with a small smile.

"I didn't want to presume... I thought maybe you liked to be alone...afterwards..."

"Victoria, if I only get to have you for one night, I want you all night- so yes, please stay tonight," he said hardly daring to hope for the continuation of what had begun here tonight.

She smiled as he lay back down and pulled her close so that her head rested on his chest. As she settled down to sleep listening to his breathing as it grew steady she thought about what he'd said – 'if I only get to have you for one night'- after making love to him, after knowing his passion and adoration, she knew that she could not stand for this to be a one night only kind of thing. She needed him in her life, she just didn't know how that could happen with Conrad in the picture, but then her husband seemed to manage to have affairs alongside their marriage perfectly well... She mulled it all over until she couldn't think straight anymore, welcoming sleep without resistance.

Pressing the tiniest of kisses to her forehead David stared down at the beautiful woman he shared his bed with "stay tonight," he repeated in the faintest whisper. "Stay forever." After finding such contentment, it did not take long for sleep to find him.

* * *

Morning seemed to come all too quickly and when he woke, the sun streaming in from the window directly in front of him, he noticed that she was sitting on the end of the bed dressed only in his white shirt, evidently deep in thought. He pushed back the quilt and made his way down the bed until he was directly behind her. He swept her hair from her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning yourself," she said smiling as she turned towards him.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very well," she replied noticing how easy small-talk was with him and how natural it seemed; it made her regret having to leave this house and him all the more.

"Can I make you some breakfast – some more pancakes maybe?" he asked hopefully.

"Mm," she sighed "that would be nice, but I have to go back next door."

"Why?"

"I have to put a call in to Conrad – goodness knows how many times he's called already," she said and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"...and if I refuse to let you go?"

"You wouldn't. Give me thirty minutes, I'll call Conrad, change and I'll come right back, have some breakfast with you," she said.

"You will?"

"Mm hmm," she said nodding, wondering if it was realistically possible for her to do that.

"Well then... I suppose I can let you go..." he said, releasing her from his grip.

"Thank you," she said sliding from the bed and gathering her clothes from the floor and heading for the door.

"First on the left," he called after her.

* * *

Minutes later she appeared back in the room fully dressed and with her hair perfectly in place. Fortunately for him he could see the lasting effects of last night in her eyes and he knew that if he closed his eyes he would be able to picture her perfection for days.

She smiled at him, a wide beautiful smile he hadn't seen yet. "David... last night was..." she paused trying to find the appropriate words.

"Perfect?" he suggested.

"Yes, perfect. Exactly," she agreed crossing the room for one last kiss which almost made her want to forget about that call to her husband. Somehow she pried herself from him and made her way back to the door.

"Thirty minutes," he called wondering if she would return...

* * *

Stepping back through the door of Grayson manor, she instantly felt like the world was different. This house suddenly felt like just that – only a house which contained things. The beach house next door felt like somewhere she'd already her heart and that was something she lamented. She would not - she could not let herself fall in love with this man.

Sweeping through the foyer and heading straight for her bedroom, she was glad she did not run into any staff, it meant that she could change and prepare herself for her conversation with Conrad without interruption and head back to David for that breakfast.

After she had showered and changed she made her way back downstairs heading for the privacy of Conrad's study to get this uncomfortable phone call over with. As she made to enter, she was surprised to hear the voice of one of the maids- not just any maid – Margarita, Conrad's little mistress.

"Mr Conrad has called four times this morning," she said in a tone Victoria did not appreciate, at all.

"Thank you. You may go," she said tersely, opening the door.

"I saw you," the other woman said. "I know where you went last night," she added knowingly.

Victoria stopped, turning towards the maid. "I had a meeting," she said.

"Red dress not for meetings," she said in her broken English.

"You will watch your tone Miss Mendes; remember I am your employer."

"I take my orders from Mr Conrad," she said.

"Mr Conrad is not here I am," Victoria replied drawing herself up to her full height.

"He loves me," she said coldly.

"Now," Victoria said taking a step closer to the girl "you listen to me. You may be a source of amusement to my husband, but I am his wife, I bore him his son. His allegiance is to me," she said.

"You are not the only one," Margarita replied, sliding her hand to her stomach. "I carry Mr Conrad's child," she said.

"You..." Victoria stumbled over the words she intended to say, unable to process what she'd just been told. "You... will never work in the Hamptons again. You will leave this house, immediately, without a reference, do you hear me?"

The girl looked shocked and a small part of Victoria sympathised. Conrad had probably made her false promises and here she was throwing her to the curb with nothing. Victoria knew what that felt like but a larger part of her hated the threat to her family this woman posed. "It is not my fault that you cannot please your husband," she said bitterly.

"What?" Victoria's voice was severely strained.

"He tell me at night, Mrs Grayson is a cold, unfeeling woman. He gets no satisfaction."

Victoria was silent for a moment, tears of anger welling in her throat "Get out," she instructed, turning her back on the other woman and heading into the study.

"You remember Mrs Grayson, Margarita Mendes knows," she said and then she turned to go.

* * *

"Victoria, there you are," Conrad drawled on the phone minutes later "I called a few times, Margarita said you were out."

"I went to the dressmakers early for my fitting – for the gala at the end of the month – you know how busy they get," Victoria lied coolly, thinking about how much she wanted to hurt him right now.

"Good and everything was Ok yesterday? I know Mitzy Rubenstein can be a handful."

"Mitzy Rubenstein is cake," Victoria muttered "when will you be returning?"

"Ah... sooner than I thought, Mr Jenkins has another engagement," he said his lie so evident in his voice.

"I'm sure," she said.

"Well... then, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Oh and Conrad, before I forget. Miss Mendes left our employment, quite suddenly this morning."

"What?" she could hear the outrage, the panic. Did she know? He wondered. You bet she knew. "Victoria _what on God's Earth have you done? _That girl is..."

"Goodbye Conrad," she said not giving him time to finish.

* * *

Knocking on the door of the beach house not five minutes later, she did not wait for David to answer before entering. Making her way through the now familiar lower level of the house, she found him just on his way out of the kitchen to answer the door.

"Victoria? That was quick – I've only just started breakfast."

"Forget breakfast," she said. "I need to ask you something."

"Ok, what is it?"

"Did I... Last night... were you pleased... did I please you?"

"What?" he was astounded. "Of course, yes. You were amazing."

"I teased you too much didn't I?"

"What? No."

"Be honest David, you would have liked me to finish what I started wouldn't you?" she asked and they both knew what she meant.

"Where is this coming from? You pleased me in lots of ways last night," he laughed a little awkwardly.

"I can please you properly," she said leaning close to him and running her hand over the front of his pants. "The way a man should be pleased," she added.

"Victoria you don't..." he started but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"What time do you have to collect Amanda?"

"Not until after lunch," he said, feeling himself harden at her touch.

"Well... then..." she said taking his hand and leading him back towards his bedroom.

* * *

**Well there it is, a really long one – sorry about that. Anyway I hope you like it. I have quite a few chapters planned on this one so if you want to keep reading let me know. **

**Please excuse any editorial mistakes I've done my best with them. **

**Thanks for reading xx**


	9. Falling Prey to the Queen

**Hello :-) **

**Thank you for all the reviews and interest on this one, they mean a lot. Sorry it's been a week again! I'm trying to take a break for a bit – something I haven't done since I finished studying so theoretically, I should be able to go back to the more frequent update pattern on this one—theoretically! Ha! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable plots will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been two weeks since he had seen her. Fourteen long days. Not that he was counting. Of course that was complete dishonesty but he thought that it was probably acceptable to be dishonest when he was the only one who suffered for it. Sighing as he once again found himself becoming distracted, he tried not to think of her. Easier said than done. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her, every inch of her glorious perfection, when it grew quiet enough he was almost driven crazy by the recollection of the way she had cried his name as she let go. Looking down at the half finished budget report he had been compiling, he knew that all hopes of work were futile. Getting up from his desk, he went to the window, surveying the impressive cityscape before him. Thinking about what she had two weeks ago, he tried to compare his taste of Conrad Grayson's life to the one she had described. From what he could tell in the time since his summer had ended and his career at Grayson Global had begun it was extremely lonely. He was holed up in this office for far more hours than he had anticipated, he hadn't seen Amanda for above thirty minutes in a fortnight and as for Victoria, he hadn't even caught so much as a single glimpse of her from the balcony. When he returned from the City long after Amanda had gone to bed, the window to her bedroom was always dark and the woman who had become his lover was always kept from his view.

He ran a hand across the back of his neck feeling tension there caused by the frustration he felt. Not only did he long to see her, to hold her and to spend time with his daughter which involved more than a mumbled sleepy 'night Daddy', he was finding the navigation of the Foundation much more difficult than he had anticipated. Conrad hadn't been kidding when he'd said that the interior running of it had fallen by the wayside with Victoria as its exterior face. In the past few days alone he'd had to create five new spreadsheets before he could even begin to assess the financial state of the Foundation. Perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew, particularly when he couldn't think straight. Glancing at his watch he made the snap decision to go to lunch, maybe then he'd be able to clear his head enough to get some work done this afternoon.

* * *

Popping his head around the door, he was just about to inform his secretary, Eve, of his plans when he noticed that she was on the phone and wearing a grimace. He exited his office and went to stand in front of her desk where he mouthed the word "Who?"

She grimaced further and made a half steeple with her hand – the symbol for a crown he had learnt, before whispering "Mrs Grayson."

His stomach did and involuntary flip at the mention of her name and he had a fair idea of why she was calling and why Eve looked like she was about to cry. The woman on the end of the phone obviously picked up on her ill-disguised whisper if Eve's next response was anything to go by.

"Yes Mrs Grayson, I'm looking right at him," she said.

"_Well you tell him that I am highly displeased with this proposal. Does he think it's some kind of joke?"_ Victoria asked from her table at her favourite bistro a block away from Grayson Global.

"No Mrs Grayson, of course not. Mr Clarke just thought..." she waited as some venomous retort was offered.

"Mr Clarke only thought that the party should embrace the spirit of the Hamptons..."

"_It is not a party, it is a benefit, that is the first crucial difference and you can tell Mr Clarke that if he thinks that a pool party is embracing the spirit of the Hamptons – he has a lot to learn_," she said, a smile creeping onto her face as she engaged him in her little game.

"I'll tell him. Would you like me to set up a meeting? Next week maybe?"

"_No,"_ Victoria deadpanned, signalling for the waiter to bring her check. "_You can tell Mr Clarke that I'll be at the office in ten minutes. That's all_," she said, ending the call and paying her bill.

Both David and Eve remained silent in the moments immediately following the phone call as the secretary tried to recover her nerves.

"She didn't like the proposal huh?" David asked, trying not to laugh. Of course she didn't – at least not public, of course its purpose was only to provoke a reaction and that it certainly had done.

"She's furious Mr Clarke," Eve said.

"Leave that to me, I'm sure she's a pussycat deep down," he said. Mistake number one. His mind suddenly filled with the image of her stretching out in the bed next to him, her fingers reaching for the rays of sunshine which filtered through the window.

"She's coming here. In ten minutes, she won't let this go," she replied finding it hard to reconcile the image of a cat with the ferocious Mrs Grayson.

"No problem," David said breezily, his heart beginning to race. She was coming to him, again. "Hey listen, take your lunch now. I wouldn't want you to be caught in the cross fire of our little disagreement anymore than you already have," he said knowing that she had to be gone by the time Victoria got here.

She looked like she was going to protest but then he added "'I'll be fine" and this seemed to satisfy her.

* * *

He waited for her to disappear into the elevator before going back to his office where he pretended to go back to his work and waited...

Precisely twelve and a half minutes later in perfect keeping with her 'fashionably late is incredibly early' philosophy, Victoria breezed from the elevator towards his office. He'd kept his office door open so that he would know when she approached but as she did, he tried his best to appear busy and disinterested to everything but the barely started report in front of him. The second she was close enough to his office, she started her tirade.

"A pool party?" she shouted, her face the perfect picture of fury. "A pool party? Tell me Mr Clarke, is this supposed to be your attempt at City humour?" she asked, for all intents and purposes sounding like she was in a deep rage. Something about her expression however told him that she may not be entirely serious. Just as he was about to reply with some witty remark, she pulled out the manila envelope he'd had delivered to the manor just this morning and slapped it down on the desk.

"I'm quickly becoming concerned that my husband severely misjudged your role within the company. You don't appear to understand the Foundation at all," she said, slamming the door shut with extra gusto which shook the solid wood in its frame.

"I'm sorry Mrs Grayson," he began his reply formally and just loud enough that anyone lingering outside the office would hear. "I never meant for the contents of that file to upset you so much," he apologised, thinking about just how disingenuous that apology really was. He was not sorry for what the proposal contained at all. "How can I..." he made to continue but she cut him off, the distinctive click of the lock a sound which punctuated her momentary pause.

"Shut up and kiss me David," she breathed heavily as she closed the small gap between them and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment he was caught off guard, taken by surprise at the turn of events. One minute she'd been yelling at him and the next she was pressed to him, her hands already sliding into his hair as her tongue pushed against his mouth insistently begging for the opportunity to reacquaint herself with the taste of him. After a few long minutes they broke apart and she gripped his jacket.

"Why did that feel so good – after...?"

"Well, it has been two weeks Victoria – that is an _awfully _long time," he said with a smile at the knowledge that she had missed him as much as he had missed her.

"Mm," she agreed kissing him again. "You know that was a crazy thing you did this morning, sending that," she pointed to the file on his desk "to the manor. Don't you realise, even my personal letters aren't personal in that house? Anyone could have seen," she should have been angry, but the second she had laid eyes on him that feeling had simply dissipated.

"I didn't think. I just wanted you to know... I was thinking of you," he told her.

"Inappropriately apparently," she said with a smile as she picked up the file, flipping through it casually. "Conrad kept his lunch appointment with Mr Mallory I assume?" she asked without looking up.

"Mr Mallory?" he was blindsided by her question. Conrad had left for lunch, but he'd left with a woman. Deciding to honour the decision he had made a month ago, he bit the bullet and continued, she deserved the truth. "If Mr Mallory is a Hispanic woman named... Margar..."

"Margarita Mendes," she murmured the colour draining from her already porcelain skin. Her grip tightened on the file as she tried to regain her composure.

"Victoria? What's the matter?" he asked, reaching out and touching a steadying hand to her cheek.

"Nothing," she smiled tightly. "I'll handle it. Besides, I don't want to spend your entire lunch break talking about her," she said, her eyes going back down to the open file.

"Oh no?" he said as he bent his head and pressed kisses to the delightfully exposed elegance of her neck.

"No. I wanted to discuss this proposal," she said taking a slight step back and placing distance between them. "How exactly did you envisage this coming about?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Taking extra care to brush her hip against his, she dropped the bags she had been carrying and headed for his chair which she took without asking, wondering if he'd take the one on the other side.

"I wasn't detailed enough?" he asked ignoring the clear power-play she was making and sitting on the edge of the desk, his calf almost touching hers as she sat one leg crossed over the other in his chair like it was a throne.

"Oh, it's not that, it's just that with a pool full of investors I don't think you've entirely thought through the logistics," she said leaning forward ever so slightly so that he got a perfect view of the dark lace bra she wore beneath her sheer purple blouse.

He swallowed hard, he wanted her. Right now. In that chair. "Well... you see I was hoping to discuss the numbers on the guest list for the event."

"You were?" her eyebrow quirked upward.

"Mm hmm. I was definitely thinking that rather than one hundred and fifty, we could cut down to oh, I don't know, two. Think of the money you'd save on catering," he said.

"...and the business Conrad would lose," Victoria smiled, trying her best to stifle the laugh she could feel in her throat. "It _would_ make this much easier though," she said, lifting the file towards him and running her finger along the page.

* * *

"You 'accidentally' bump into me as I'm drying off in the pool house," she started her breathing tightening in her chest as she felt his hand on her thigh, travelling towards the hem of her charcoal skirt. "I'm struggling with my bathing suit and you being a stand up kind of guy can't bear to see a woman in distress, so you..." her focus drifted momentarily as he hitched the skirt up, his fingertips following the path of the material. "Help me," she breathed, her legs parting of their own volition as he found his way to her panties.

"Gladly," he murmured sliding from a sitting position to crouching before her as she lifted her hips and he obliged her silent request.

"So..." she tried to pull focus back to the file in spite of the fact that he was currently drawing her panties down her thighs. "You help me..." she paused as his fingers retraced their path towards her heat "out of my dripping wet...bathing suit and... Oh God... David," she sighed as he began to tease her "please... David..." she begged as she arched towards him "please finish it," she cried and he knew that whilst she meant the little scenario he had crafted for her, her plea could easily apply to the here and now.

"So after I strip you, I push away your towel," he said thrusting two fingers into her rapidly "and take you against the wall," he said finding his way to her sensitive core without his eyes ever once leaving hers.

She did not resist him as she had done the last time they had been together and whilst she still made him work to bring her release, it did not take nearly so long and she came with a quiet exultation of his name.

* * *

"You know," he said as he withdrew from her and drew his fingers to his lips, "that might be just about my favourite part of the proposal," he said sitting back on the edge of the desk.

She opened her eyes and dropped the proposal to her lap in an attempt to convey modesty which she knew was futile now. "I agree," she said, scooting closer to him and running her hands along his thighs.

"It's a shame it'll be a casualty in the real proposal," he said then added as an afterthought "which I do have ready by the way," he signalled to one of the files in the out tray on his desk.

"Perhaps it doesn't have to be entirely forsaken," she said her mind already in over drive.

"No?"

"No. Conrad's away on Friday – business in Chicago. I could make sure the staff are pre-occupied with something, you could come by before you go home to Amanda."

"Is that wise?"

"Nothing about this is wise David," she said solemnly and once again he was made aware of just how wrong it was that he was having an affair with this woman, "but I have to see you."

"What're you doing now?" he laughed.

"Not like this. I don't want this to always be about grabbing five minutes in your office. I want to be with you, more than anything," she said quietly and he wondered whether it caused her pain to admit that.

"I know the feeling," he said finding himself suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

"Besides which... if you don't come then my entire morning's employment will have been for nothing," she said quickly redressing herself before getting up and going towards the heap of bags she had left by the door, leaning over self-consciously to find the appropriate one.

"Ah so that's how you Southampton ladies spend your days?"

She was silent for a moment as she tried to interpret his tone. Was it that he had been genuinely curious or was he being sarcastic? Looking at his face she couldn't tell, which was strange as he was usually so readable. "What's the point of our husbands making all this money if it just sits pretty in the bank? It's put to better use making we wives pretty instead," she said unfolding the tissue paper which had been wrapped around her purchase from Dior.

"You don't need any help in that department Victoria," he said his voice thick with lust.

She blushed crimson, he had the power to reduce her to the young girl she had been, desperately seeking compliments, only his seemed real and to mean something. "Anyway..." she said as it was the only response which sprang to mind. "If you don't come by on Friday you'll be missing out on this," she said turning back to face him and shaking out her purchase until she could hold it up against her.

* * *

"When you imagined that scenario, did you have something like this in mind?" she asked, wanting his opinion on the bathing suit she had bought. It was like nothing she'd ever bought before and revealed far more skin than she usually would but she thought that it was worth the one hundred and fifty dollar price tag, especially given his current expression.

He knew his jaw had dropped a little and he knew that as a grown man he should be able to control his impulses better, but he'd never been with a woman like her before and she seemed to know just how to work him. He was speechless as his fantasy ran through his mind and he tried to imagine her standing in that bathing suit, wet from a recent swim as she waited for him to ravage her. It was too much.

"Nothing?" she asked with a smile "not even an 'I like it'? Oh well then... you probably won't like these either..." she said reaching into another bag and pulling out a pair of strappy Blahnik sandals.

"Victoria," he muttered darkly "you..." he said crossing the room and pushing her against the door more roughly than he had intended. She gasped as her back made contact with the hard wood and as he ran a hand through her hair he showed his remorse in his eyes but she met his gaze with lustful fire. "Are a wicked woman and..." he finished pressing a kiss to her smiling mouth " you had better be wearing that _exactly _like that on Friday," he growled as she sought his lips again.

"You know, you surprise me David. First you write about... us in a work file and now you're commanding me around like you're my master. I didn't know you had a dark side. I find it very... appealing," she said, her hands caressing his shoulders.

"Well you'd better get used to it, I've hardly begun to bare myself to you yet," he said taking a step back as a thought popped into his head. "You know I just thought – I have a deal with Amanda for Fridays, I'm always home by six thirty for dinner, it's the one night a week I try to get off work early. If I come by the pool house, I'll miss dinner," he said watching disappointment bloom in her eyes. "If..." he said after a while "however I was to tell her that I was going to pick you up from the manor and bring you to dinner, I'm sure she'd be more than forgiving for any tardiness – she's always talking about you."

"Hmm..." she mumbled realising that he was using the tension between them to entrap her into a dinner date. "If we were to talk about the new proposal in an official capacity I could probably make it."

"Done."

"Done," she agreed.

"Good," he smiled to himself, clearly pleased with his work.

"Now Mr Clarke..." she said closing the gap between them and running her hand down the space between them until it rested on the hard front of his pants. "You may think you have the upper hand but remember this – I am Queen here and people always come around to my way of thinking – they always submit," she murmured and his body shook.

"Well if that's the case... I regret to inform you that you may have met your match," he said casually stepping away from her.

"We'll see about that," she challenged as she bent down before him and gathered her shopping bags and tore herself reluctantly away from him as she made her way to the door.

"Victoria?" he called as she unlocked the door. She turned towards him. "Friday?" he asked.

"Friday," she echoed as she opened the door "and next time bring a proposal that is not wholly diabolical won't you Mr Clarke," she added venomously as she sashayed past a returned Eve and made her way out of the building escaping Conrad's ever watchful radar.

* * *

David stood in the doorway of his office, shaking with desire in the wake of her departure. Flicking his glance towards Eve, he shot her a nervous smile. "That's me told," he said. "Better had get back to work." He retreated back into his office and shut the door. Sitting at his desk minutes later, his mind was filled with her and her scent lingered in the room reminding him of her presence even when he tried to return his attention back to his report. It was hopeless, he knew. He would be unable to think of anything but his lover in that black bathing suit and those sandals until Friday...

* * *

**Well there it is, I hope you like it. I haven't planned to write the pool house scene, but I absolutely can and will if that's something you want to read, it would only be a temporary digression and I could just get on with the plot from the chapter after, if not then I'll push on with the mainframe plot. Let me know what you'd prefer. **

**Please excuse any editorial errors I've done my best with them. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Xx **


	10. Fantasies and Fallacies

**Hey everyone, **

**I just wanted to say thank you for the reviews and interest on this one, they mean a lot. Sorry I haven't updated in a while despite what I promised. It kind of feels like I've fallen off the planet sometimes! Thanks also to my wonderful guest reviewer who left not one but two reviews – I did get them and they did make me smile it's just that I was in London and couldn't moderate them hence why they've not appeared on the reviews page. Nevertheless, this chapter is for you. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

Conrad looked both left and right, keeping his head trained firmly towards the ground. The very deliberate nature of these actions were more likely to cause the adverse effect to that which he desired, but receiving the phone call Lydia had forwarded to him on Wednesday had thrown him of his kilter and meant that he could hardly think straight. It was highly unusual if not entirely unheard of for the esteemed managing director of Grayson Global to conduct 'extra-marital' business so close to home and the omniscience of his wife, but then this was an unusual situation all around. As he entered the lobby of the most non-descript hotel in the City his secretary had been able to find on such short notice, Conrad pondered the effort he went to in order to protect his many affairs. It all seemed rather ridiculous when he stopped to consider it at length. He was not foolish enough to believe that no-one in the office knew about his relationship with the soon to be married Lydia, in fact he reasoned, he would be more surprised to find out who didn't know, but still he orchestrated these tremendous charades. It was important to him – the image he projected – doting husband to his seemingly untameable wife. Graysons always appeared united, a mantra he'd learnt from his father, before that relationship had soured. Giving a false name, he took the key from the woman behind the desk before heading towards the stairs. Besides, he thought to himself as he climbed one flight, two, three, he quite enjoyed the existence of their fallacy of a marriage. It comforted him to know that no matter what he did and with whom, little Vicky Harper – oh so grateful to be his finest creation – would be there at the end of it all with a Bourbon and a smile of tight lipped resentment.

Oddly he found as he made his way along the corridor of the third floor in search of the fading room number which would correspond to the key fob, he actually agreed with Victoria – for once in their ill-fated marriage. Her judgements, although rarely actually sought by him, often proved right – however much he disliked admitting it – and in the case of Margarita Mendes, his wife had proven herself far more savvy than he could pretend to be. Naturally, the moment he'd heard that Victoria had dispensed of her, he'd seen red – she was his concern and his wife had no place interfering in his business no matter how immoral it might be to have taken a mistress in their home. Then he'd had some thinking time and something resembling a rational conversation with her and he'd discovered much to his horror, that there could very well be an illegitimate child in the picture. As much as he had experienced the momentary thrill of realising his own virility, the thought of that child - that unborn threat to Daniel and the Grayson empire - had filled him with nothing but dread. With the company balanced so precariously in the hands of people he did not pretend to understand and with the future of their very survival in a far more dire situation than he would ever freely admit to Victoria, he had to close ranks – only the son of true Grayson blood could be a concern.

He flicked his eyes closed for a moment as he knocked at the door twice, as instructed. For Conrad that mere second presented an emotion which he supposed would most closely resemble regret in another man, a better man. He hardly dared to think about the conversation he had had with Miss Mendes, the tears, the disappointment, the realisation that a Grayson promise was worth nothing. His stomach flipped as she opened the door, hand drawn protectively across her stomach and her eyes staring at him with such deadness he could not maintain contact. He cleared his throat, a defence mechanism which helped him handle impossible situations and stepped inside, hearing the bang of the door with a minute shudder.

"Hello Mr Conrad," she said her voice cold.

"Miss Mendes," he acknowledged.

"Oh, it is Miss Mendes now that I am useless to you. Useless, unwanted and _empty," _she replied bitterly and again he was seized by a momentary attack of uncomfortable regret.

"It's done?" he spoke quietly. He had only to glance at her to know the answer. Her eyes may have been cold but her cheeks were stained with dried tear-tracks which silently told him of her true feelings, even if she would not.

"As you instructed," she said. He was just about to speak again when he heard a slap on the oak dresser to his left. "There is your proof," she said as he flipped open the file and perused the paper it contained. "The great name of Grayson is safe."

He did not dwell on the report, he couldn't understand the medical jargon anyway, but what he did take from it was that his request had been fulfilled. For the briefest of moments, he felt a surge of power – that he could control life that way – which did not begin to recede until strangely he thought of Victoria hissing the word 'despicable' at him and the feeling dissipated.

"Miss Mendes I..."

"You say nothing," she said holding up her hand to stop him "you wanted proof, I give you proof. Now, you have broken every promise you made to me in your office and you deserve your cold, cruel wife but I care about you Mr Conrad and I have... information which will make you think about your choice... you will see it was the wrong one..."

"What is it?" Conrad asked, his interested piqued.

Margarita shook her head once firmly before she spoke. "First, my money," she said holding out her hand.

* * *

At almost the exact moment that Margarita Mendes was securing her highly lucrative new contract with Conrad Grayson, completely unaware that he was the prime subject of their discussion, David Clarke swung his car into the garage, fearing no danger of being discovered by Amanda or Gretchen her Nanny since his daughter was at the Stowaway with Jack until just before dinner. It was just another precaution he had taken to ensure that his evening with Victoria went smoothly without compromising the Friday night bargain he had struck with his little girl. Since he'd told her that Victoria would be joining them for dinner and had arranged for them to eat at an upscale grill house a safe enough distance away from 'all the prying eyes' of the Hamptons, he figured they had about an hour before they were expected by Amanda and he knew exactly how he wanted that time to go.

He didn't bother going into the beach house, it was just a waste of the time he could spend with his lover, instead he headed directly towards Grayson manor. Thinking back to the discreet note which had been delivered to him yesterday afternoon, he complied with her instruction not to enter through the front of the house – to avoid alerting any lurking staff to his presence – and instead went straight around the side of the impressive property to the pool house. Looking both ways to ensure that he was unobserved, he knocked on the door before entering without waiting for a response. He stood just inside the door surveying the building which the Graysons called their pool house. To him the place looked more like the cottages he'd seen further out of the Hamptons and its furnishings certainly suggested that it could easily be an abode rather than a simple changing facility for swimmers. In the early evening sunlight, dust motes swirled around lending the place an ethereal quality which he thought was fitting to the fulfilment of his fantasy. Unfortunately for him, the object of his desires was nowhere in sight. Checking his watch he noted that it was 17. 58 and that he was early, actually early, not Hamptons early, not fashionably late. So that explained it then, she'd said six sharp and she was going to arrive just after that – a lady couldn't appear too eager after all. Just as he was about to take one of the wicker chairs to wait, he heard movement further back in the building and moving silently towards it, he realised that it was the sound of running water.

Not knowing whether it was quite appropriate for him to go into the bathroom so soon into their relationship, he retreated, noting for the first time what should have been so blindingly obvious before. A large brown tote slightly overflowing with the white dress it contained and there on the floor, those Blahniks which had had his head in a spin for the past two days. She was here. All that was left to do was wait. He took a seat, a thrill of excitement coursing through his veins.

The water shut off short minutes later, but it was a while before he heard the door open. Holding his breath, he steeled himself for appearance, knowing that the reality was going to be so much sexier than he had mustered in his fantasy. Several seconds passed and he wondered whether she had decided against following through, but then he heard the gentle slap of her feet against the linoleum floor and suddenly she was there.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she realised that she had an audience and the two of them shared an intense stare which threatened to expose his carnal side sooner than he hoped. He was so stirred that he became compelled to go to her and rose from his seat, still wordless.

"David," she sounded surprised as her eyes flicked to the clock above his head. "You're early," she said with a quirk of her eyebrow.

He shook his head playfully. "Right on time," he said advancing towards her. God she was beautiful and although the large white towel secured over her cleavage covered most of her body, the rapidly increasing puddle of water at her feet told him that she'd fulfilled every part of his fantasy. Just as he was about to reach for her, she held up a hand and side stepped towards her bag.

"I'm not ready yet," she said.

"You look perfect to me." His eyes told her just how perfect he thought she was.

"I thought you said you wanted me to dress _exactly_ the way I showed you on Wednesday?"

"I just want you," he said, unavoidably honest around her as always.

"It'll be worth the wait," she chided, stepping into the shoes and adjusting the straps one by one. "There," she said and they were silent, waiting for the other to say or do something.

"You," he said closing the gap between them and placing a hand to her neck "have driven me crazy with images of that bathing suit," he said running a finger over her lips.

"So... did I do it right?" she asked and for a moment she seemed almost nervous.

"Well," he said pulling her closer to him and ghosting his lips against hers "you didn't swim," he finished.

"Come on is that your only complaint?" she asked with a small quirk of her lips. "Besides, you didn't really want me smelling and... tasting of chlorine did you?"

"Hmm," he muttered his hands sliding to her curvy rear and pulling her flush against him, allowing their lips to meet for the first time. She did not resist and he could not control himself. He'd rarely experienced such a complete lack of his senses with a woman but with her, he lost all of his faculties until all that mattered was never letting her go. It wasn't practical and he knew she'd warned him against it, but already he could feel the rising of those forbidden feelings inside of him. She moaned against his mouth as his tongue slipped past her teeth and began to seek hers and soon they were engaged in what was fast becoming a familiar yet heady dual. Kissing this way until oxygen became scarce, they broke apart breathing heavily.

"You're right," he sighed against her forehead "you taste so much better, just you."

She laughed a little, her fingers tracing his jaw as she breathed in the scent of his cologne. "I love the way you kiss me," she said out of nowhere as she felt his hands beginning to snake into the space between them towards the knot of the towel at her bust.

"What can I say? You inspire me to do my best work," he said, his fingers beginning to work the knot loose.

"Mm... Why is it that even the worst lines work on me when you say them?"

"It's my indelible charm," he shrugged, his right hand sliding up her thigh and reaching for the towel from the bottom.

"Wait," she instructed her tone curt.

"What is it?" he asked drawing back marginally.

"Did you lock the door?" she asked, arching her body towards him in spite of herself.

"What?" he asked feeling her chest brush against his.

"The door, did you lock it?"

"I... I don't remember."

"I don't want us to be interrupted," she said pulling away despite everything that told her she just wanted to be close to him. Breaking away, she walked towards the door, ever conscious of her audience and making that extra effort to wiggle her hips.

"You're killing me Victoria," he muttered gutturally, taking advantage of their brief separation to loosen the knot of his tie and unbutton his cuffs. "Get over here."

* * *

His travelling companion had noticed that Conrad was unusually quiet and exceptionally pale. When he had rolled by the office at the agreed time, she'd taken one look at him and been filled with a similar feeling of dread she imagined one experienced after witnessing something terrible. He'd been staring right at her but barely acknowledged her presence and when she'd touched him, he'd actually flinched. This had never happened before. She'd never seen him be anything less than charming and confident and it unsettled her to see him like this.

He hadn't spoken to her once since he'd picked her up and she wondered whether she'd made a mistake in agreeing to come. The tanoid sprang to life and a woman's voice announced that their flight was boarding at gate eight. She picked up her bag, sighing. She'd never felt this way when he'd whisked her away before.

As they made their way from the departure lounge to the gate, she reached out her hand and took his limp right hand. For a moment he did not respond but then suddenly, she felt him squeeze his fingers around hers.

"Conrad what is it?" she asked all concern for him. "What did she say to you?" When she'd set up the meeting with Margarita Mendes for her lover, she'd simply assumed that she would announce the intention to sue him for unfair dismissal – something which Conrad would blow out of the water before it even began - but something really had him shaken, if only she knew the full story.

He was silent for a moment and she saw his jaw working, his teeth clenching and unclenching. "My God-damn wife," he hissed.

She balked, her eyes widened. He never mentioned his wife – her good friend- when they were together, it was a rule of his. "Victoria?" she tried to sound casual but even she knew she had failed. "What about her?"

He blew out a breath. "You know, I don't want to talk about her this weekend," he said and she smiled. "I'm just going to need you more than I ever have," he said as he guided her through the gate.

* * *

When Victoria turned back towards him she watched him unbutton the top two fastenings on his crisp white shirt and she had to fight herself not to go over there and rip it right off. She loved his body, loved the taut firmness of his chest, just the right amount of hair dusting the skin there, the way that when he was shirtless she could see the contraction of his muscles at her touch. Her eyes glinted as she made her way back to him and she forced the next words which came out of her mouth into a stage-conversational tone. "How was work?"

"I don't want to talk about work," he growled.

"Oh no?" she ran her hand down the length of her high ponytail letting her hair swish back down in a seductive side flick, she wondered if he was imagining her hands on him, running down his length – teasing him. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked her hands going to the complicated ties at the back of her bathing suit causing her towel to slip a little. She bit her lip as she tugged half heartedly at it.

"No talking," he said beckoning her to him.

She took her time in spite of the short distance and all the while deliberately failed to loosen the tie at the top of her bathing suit, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his. His pupils were fixed on her and if it was even possible they seemed to have grown darker in the seconds which had passed since she'd started to enact the fantasy. She was virtually opposite him now and she saw the way he clenched his fists at his sides, trying desperately not to touch her until the appropriate moment, it was hard for him – she knew - that thrilled her.

She struggled some more, loving his reaction which had quickly migrated from a simple but intense stare to that of a more verbal variety. "Damn it," she muttered disregarding his previous instruction of silence. "I'm afraid you're going to have to help me Mr Clarke," she muttered throatily taking one final step towards him and felt a shiver run down her spine as he lifted his hand from his side and let it rest on her collarbone. He applied pressure to the bone for a moment before easing his fingers back and gripping the first of the ties. It wasn't going to be easy, unfastening the bathing suit whilst she was wrapped in that towel, but a big part of his fantasy involved her being naked before he dropped the towel.

The Lycra made a slight 'ping' against the back of her neck as it loosened and he widened his legs stepping around her and encasing her in his embrace as his free hand slid beneath the towel and rested just where the bathing suit dipped at the cleft between her breasts, waiting to feel the slackening of the wet black material. It didn't come immediately and he was growing increasingly impatient. As her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, he felt her smile against his neck. Had she deliberately chosen the most complicated bathing suit in the store? He wouldn't put it past her.

"What's the matter David?" she whispered into his ear, completely disobeying his instruction not to speak. "Are you too much of a gentleman to take what you want?" she asked casually popping the last of his buttons and pushing his shirt down his arms. Frustratingly, he denied her the ability to completely remove it, but she was still able to shamelessly lavish attention on the beautiful strength of his chest.

Suddenly, she felt her back hit the wall, her breath escaping her in a shocked gasp, whatever reaction she'd hoped to inspire, she hadn't expected him to be rough with her, she liked that. A lot. In one swift motion, he had stripped her of her towel and it crumpled at her feet, forgotten. She stood opposite him, watching him roam her body, taking in the sight of his desire as his eyes met with the glistening black Lycra and she could not stifle the moan which tumbled from her lips. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be this wanted. His hands sculpted her curves in the figure hugging bathing suit and she watched his eyes darken again, as if that were even remotely possible. He took a step closer to her, pressing her tightly against the wall until she was surrounded only by him and he leaned in close to her ear.

"Turn around. Now," he ordered giving her just enough space to comply.

"What?" she asked suddenly confused.

"I said turn around, now."

Her lips twitched upwards in something of an uncertain smile, a slight ripple of something uncomfortable fluttering in her stomach for a moment, but then she flicked her eyes back to his and realised that his fantasy was simply developing, he was still the man she had come to know as gentle underneath it all.

His hands were on the ties immediately and she felt them spring loose, finally. The front of her suit bagged a little and she felt her breasts tumble free of their confines. In seconds he was pressed tightly against her, his hardness hitting the cleft of her backside. Whilst one of his hands snaked around her front, pulling the suit away from her smooth, toned body and following its path over her skin, his other hand fumbled in the space between them at her rear and she heard the gratifying clink of his belt as he unbuckled it.

She swallowed hard. It had been a while since a man had... entered her from behind. "I didn't think this was part of the plan," she said, noting the wavering of her own voice.

"Neither was talking," he muttered as he rolled one of her dark peaks between his thumb and forefinger, hearing her cry out in pleasure. After a moment he let the pads of his fingers ghost their way lower until he reached the frustrating bunch of slick black material at her hips. "Damn it Victoria you're driving me crazy," he groaned into her ear as he took hold of her hips and swivelled her back toward him.

"Hmm... that's better," she said grabbing the back of his neck and pushing her lips to his. As they kissed heatedly, she reached down between them and unfastened his pants. At precisely the moment he pulled the bathing suit over her hips, she thrust her hand into the gape of his pants straight past his underwear, her fingers wrapping around his hardness. He groaned gutturally and bucked towards her. She ran the edge of her thumb against him and scraped her teeth along his jaw.

"You're eager," she smiled, loving that she was responsible for this.

"Victoria," he murmured catching her lips again. "How can I make you understand this? I have been going wild for you since that night two weeks ago," he said taking a step back so he could appreciate the beauty of his lover.

She stood before him, defiantly meeting his gaze as her cheeks flushed pink. Blood had rushed to her lips and she had rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and made no attempt to cover herself as he expected her to. She was truly, truly exceptional. She was all paleness and smoothness, save for the slight dusting of dark hair between her legs. He didn't know why he was so moved by this, but it was something incredibly erotic and he was overcome by the urge to bury his face in her, to taste the sweet, sticky spice of her, but for now there was something he wanted more. She crossed her feet one over the other and bent over a little, preparing to flick off her shoes, but he was quickly on her, pressing her back against the wall.

"Leave them on," he said "you look so damn sexy," he growled as she looped her fingers through the belt hooks and pulled his pants and underwear down his knees where they fell to his ankles.

She had to admit she like this rough-talking fantasy David almost as much as the sweet, gentle lover of a fortnight ago and she found that with each of his mild curses she became steadily more aroused. They were so close and she wanted him so much that she thought she would die if they were separated for even a single moment more. Somewhat boldly she lifted one of her slender legs and wrapped it around his hip effectively smashing their pelvises together and causing them both to cry out.

Using her heel she pulled him closer and closer still until she could feel him beginning to press into her.

"David..." she hissed as she felt him hitch her up a little ,using one strong arm to hold her in place as he thrust into her swiftly. "Oh..." Her head hit the wall as she arched towards him, trying desperately to meet him, to encourage him to go deeper into her.

"So good..." he muttered against her neck as he continued to pound into her, feeling the minute pain of her nails as they dug into his shoulders.

It didn't take them long. She seemed far more relaxed this evening than she had when they'd been together two weeks ago and frankly, he'd been so ready for her it was something of a miracle that they achieved the ten minutes they managed before he was spilling into her and she was struggling to find her feet.

* * *

She fell forward a little, resting her head on his shoulder as they took a moment to recover. He assumed that she had done just that when he felt her begin to kiss her way along his shoulder blade. "That..." he told her "was so much better than I imagined."

She hummed against him, sated and content. "I'm glad," she said after a while reaching down and catching his hands with hers before using the last of her strength to push him back a little. She began to lead him from their position at the entranceway of the pool house going further back until they reached the small bed they'd had installed for overflow guests. "Yes," she said encouraging him onto the bed "I'm certainly glad that you're pleased," she shot him a smile he couldn't fathom.

"Why do I sense there's something you're not telling me?" he asked as she knelt in the space between his knees.

"Maybe because there is. You see David, I have a few ideas of my own..." she said sliding her hands around his shoulders.

"You do?"

"Oh plenty, but for now, maybe you could start by getting on your back."

His eyes flashed at the thought of what was to come. "Yes Ma'am," he said, complying. "This suit you?" he asked reaching up to brush away her ponytail as she leant over him.

"Perfectly," she said as she shifted up his body and allowed herself to stroke him.

"Victoria," he hissed as she straddled him and eased herself onto him. "You are incredible," he said as she sank fully onto him and let out a loud moan.

His hands were everywhere, caressing her hips, her waist and her breasts and as she moved against him, controlling him from above she let out the most delicious noises. He just wanted to hold her, he never wanted this to stop. Even though she had dominance, she held out on him this time, taking her time, relishing the way he filled her and the way he uttered her name – a passionate whisper which made all other words seem insignificant by comparison.

After a time, she felt her body beginning to tire, her muscles aching with well-sexed pleasure and her ability to resist release entirely spent. She reached for his hands, prying them from her hips and linking her fingers through his as she came, hard and fast before collapsing onto his chest.

"Beautiful," he muttered against her forehead as they took precious seconds to recover, neither one of them noticing or caring to comment on the fact that he was still inside her.

After several minutes in which neither of them moved, David lazily raised his hand above her and looked at the wrist watch he still wore – the only article which interrupted his otherwise bare skin. "Dinner!" he said after a beat, realising that they had thirty minutes until their reservation, which meant they were already late to collect Amanda.

"Are we going to be in trouble?" she smiled lifting her leg and sliding off him before heading for her tote.

"I have a feeling," he said sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed taking a minute to watch her as she rifled through the bag and pulled out her clothes.

"Maybe I can do something about that," she said already heading away from him.

"What do you mean?" he said as he slipped into his boxers.

"I'll show you in a minute, first though, don't you think we should get in the shower? I wouldn't want Amanda to realise that we smell like each other," she said.

"We're running out of time, we'll never get there if we both take showers," he replied.

"Well, I can think of one solution," she said grabbing his hand.

* * *

A frustratingly short amount of time later, they were both out of the shower and he was somewhat reluctant to be zipping her into rather than out of her dress.

"So what's this solution you have for our tardiness?" he said as she tucked the bathing suit into her tote. As he waited for her to reply he noted with a thrill that she was still wearing the Blahniks.

"Well, whilst I was out shopping the other day, I came across these," she said producing a small box which he took the lid off. "I hope you don't mind," she added as he looked down at the black shoes the box contained. They could almost have been the replica of the pair that Amanda had been talking about since trying them on in Victoria's closet, although thankfully they had a much lower heel.

"Mind? Victoria this is too much, she'll love them but..."

"No buts, as long as she'll like them that's what matters to me," she said.

"Well," he replied stepping closer to her and pulling her in for a quick kiss "thank you," he said.

* * *

David couldn't suppress the smile which crossed his mouth as they entered the kitchen and saw that Amanda was waiting with her arms folded and the world's biggest pout on. "You're late," she admonished.

"I had to pick up our dinner guest honey," he said.

"Hello Amanda," Victoria greeted with an equally big smile.

"Victoria!" her greeting for their neighbour was enthusiastic as always. "I love your dress," she added.

"...and I love yours," Victoria told her. "I'm sorry for making your Dad late, I'm afraid I wasn't ready when he arrived," it wasn't a lie.

"That's alright," she said and David knew it was a smart move to have invited his lover for dinner tonight.

"I wanted to apologise... so I brought you these," she said handing her the box.

Amanda excitedly ripped open the box and parted the tissue paper until she saw the shoes Victoria had picked out for her. "These are for me?" she said surprised.

"Well I don't think I'll be fitting into them," Victoria smiled. "I hope you like them."

Amanda was already kicking off her sandals and stepping into the strappy miniatures. "I love them, thank you Victoria , thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Victoria told her, her heart clenching at this moment with David's daughter. It made her want a daughter of her own, it made her want his daughter. Suddenly all she could think about was the promises he had already made her and how much she wanted them to be real.

Noticing the faraway look in her eyes David decided that it was probably a good idea to get her into the car before she could change her mind about coming and run back to the manor.

* * *

Whilst they were driving to the grill house Amanda sang along to the pop group blasting from the radio between bursts of hurried information about the latest adventure she'd had with Jack after school. Victoria listened to the constant zealous humming with humoured interest, all the while finding her craving for a daughter growing. Sometime during the short journey, Amanda sat forward a little in her seat and placed a hand on her father's shoulder. It was such an instinctive gesture and yet contained so much thought that it almost made Victoria well up. She turned towards the window and watched as the Hamptons became a mere blur in the distance.

Squeezing his daughter's hand affectionately, David did not fail to notice the reaction Victoria had had and once he was sure Amanda was immersed in singing along to the next song, he leaned towards her a little. "Hey, why don't we go by Daniel's school? Bust him out for the night? It _is_ Friday."

She smiled tensely. "That's a lovely thought, but the school wouldn't release him for the weekend without the appropriate paperwork. The place is like Fort Knox."

"We're not asking for the weekend and besides you're his mother, are you telling me they won't release him to his mother?"

"Especially not to his mother. The school is very patriarchal and one weekend not spent learning how to be a man would be to Daniel's great detriment. No, I'll see him soon enough – I'm due to call him tomorrow. Besides, I couldn't risk Daniel telling Conrad that I'd had dinner with the two of you - that really would raise all kinds of awkward questions for us. I'd rather just enjoy your company, both of you," she told him turning towards Amanda and shooting her a smile.

* * *

Dinner had been pleasant, they'd talked a little of the Foundation for appearance's sake in front of Amanda, but on the most part they had enjoyed the lengthy regalement of her day at school and her exploits on the beach. At some point between the appetisers and main course, David had felt Victoria slide her hand onto his thigh where, in spite of her need to eat, it had stayed for the remainder of the night. It had felt like such a natural gesture and he liked the sensation of being touched by her in public, but he had had to fight the urge to cover her hand with his lest he scared her away.

Amanda was currently in the middle of striking a bargain with the waiter about just how many flavours of ice cream it was possible to fit into a sundae dish when he was overcome by the desire to speak to his lover and only to her. He shifted a little closer to her on the red leather seat of the secluded booth they had been given and leaned into her ear. "Stay," he whispered almost inaudibly. "Tonight, with me," he murmured his tempting request. "Let me give you what you want," he finished.

Victoria flushed pink, connecting the dots between what he had undoubtedly concluded in the car and the last part of his suggestion. _Let me give you what you want. _She knew what she wanted, what she craved but she didn't think it was as easy as letting him give it to her. She took a sip from her glass of wine to give herself pause, then turned her attention to Amanda.

"So did you decide what you're having for dessert?" she asked feeling the huff of his breath on her cheek and suppressing a smile.

"Ice cream. Vanilla, pistachio, ginger and lime," Amanda announced proudly in front of the exhausted waiter who reluctantly wrote down her order.

"The menu says two scoops sir. Each additional flavour is a dollar fifty," he said.

"Fine, fine, whatever the princess wants," David laughed with a wave of his hand.

"Good choice," Victoria laughed heartily.

"What about you, are you having a dessert?" she asked her.

"Hmm," Victoria pretended to ponder over another sip of wine "you know I think I will," she flicked her eyes towards David and gave him the smallest nod. Suddenly he had his answer...

* * *

**Well there it is, I know it's a whopper I can't help myself with this one and besides I felt like you all deserved a little extra since I've neglected this one a little. There's something for everyone I think a little Conrad, some naughty David and Victoria and a little Victoria and Amanda, so I hope I made you all happy. **

**Please let me know what you thought and excuse any editorial errors I have tried my best with them. **

**This will return to the mainstream progression of the plot from the next chapter onwards, but I did feel the slight need to digress, I'm sure you understand why... **

**Thank you as always, for reading xx**


	11. Meetings in Masquerade

**Hello all, **

**Thank you once again for all your lovely comments on the previous chapter – they mean a lot. As I said, this one will go back to progressing the plot, so I do hope you'll enjoy it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_October... _

"Going somewhere dear?" he asked, not bothering to look up from whatever report he was perusing. She hated that he could do that – sense her movements without even looking up and the way he used that little term of endearment 'dear'. She hated it.

She stilled in the entranceway to the conservatory where he was taking breakfast – yes he 'took breakfast' like the Lord he considered himself to be – wondering whether he could sense her guilt also. She took a breath and did her level best not to look like a deer in headlights. "Maybe I should call the doctor on my way out," she began to reply, her voice assuming the hollow quality it often did when she spoke to her husband.

"The doctor?" he finally put down the report, peering at her in confusion over his espresso. "Why ever would you do that? I'm perfectly fine."

"It just doesn't strike me as a good thing to have the MD of an international business suffering from amnesia, Conrad," she told him sardonically.

"Amnesia?" his face was twisted into an expression of non-understanding. "Oh I see," he said, the words drawn out for a moment longer than necessary as he drained his espresso in one sip. "I'm two steps behind on one of your riddles," he finished, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Oh there's no riddle Conrad, though I'm flattered you think I'm still capable of outwitting you," she paused, a small, low laugh escaping her as she retrieved the folder she needed from the bureau in the corner. "I just thought we had this conversation last night. I can't think of any reason we'd need to have it again, unless of course you're trying to catch me in a lie," she said, flicking her hair from her shoulder in a dismissive gesture.

"Oh how harshly you judge me, why must you be suspicious of everything I say to you?"

"You really need to ask me that? Come on Conrad, I know you. You don't speak to me anymore unless you have ulterior motives," her voice was cold, regretful almost.

"Well, isn't it possible that I'm simply curious about what my wife is spending her Saturday morning doing? Unless there _is _a lie for you to be caught in – although only you can tell me that Victoria."

She didn't like the sugar-coating of this conversation or the way that he kept persisting – where was she going? Where was she going? When he knew damn well where she was going. "There's no lie," she lied, turning away from him. She was almost as seasoned as he was although she could not say for certain that her poker face was nearly so infallible as his. "Now if you're quite finished, I'm going to be late," she finished tersely.

He let her go, she almost got to the door before he called out to her. "Indulge me."

She turned quickly on her Blahniks – new and certainly unusual for her he noticed, as he mentally assessed what the silver strappy sandals symbolised – and headed back to the conservatory, she was all fury. She was sexy as Hell. He didn't know where that sudden reaction had come from but he couldn't deny that it had struck him. She huffed, slapping the folder onto the dining table between them. There was always something between them. Margarita, the folder, _David Clarke_...

"This charade is tiresome Conrad. You know, if we didn't operate as two separates, there wouldn't be nearly so much excuse for there to be things we keep from one another," she didn't know why she was going there with him, she didn't even want to say his name and yet she was compelled to her exposition.

"If you must know I have a breakfast meeting with David Clarke to discuss the figures for the winter benefit – you know how long it takes to organise, then after we're done, I'm going to the tailors for the final fitting of my gown for tonight. I shall home by four sharp and ready in plenty of time to be the gracious, perfect hostess as usual," she said and before he could question or commentate further, she was gone with a slam of the door.

* * *

As she stood on the veranda waiting for admittance into David Clarke's beach house, she rolled her lip between her teeth. Suddenly she felt nervous. There was something in the penetrating gaze of her husband and the incessant nature of his questioning that made her wonder whether her discreet meetings with David when Conrad was away had somehow become discoverable. He'd been acting strangely since he'd returned from his most recent business trip and try as she might, she could not come up with an explanation. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling a slight hot flush of lust as she recalled the last time she had worn these shoes for her lover. Since she'd bought that that week in September, they'd become a regular feature in their meetings, which was precisely why she had worn them today but now everything seemed uncertain. She wasn't even sure this meeting was a good idea. Just as she cast a glance back towards the manor, making the decision to leave and head to the tailor early, he appeared, his form coming towards her as she stared into the house through the glass French doors. He was wiping his hands on a tea towel and shot her the widest smile that temporarily suspended her doubts. As he flicked the lock and opened the door she returned his smile.

"Sorry I took so long, breakfast... you know how I am when you come for breakfast," he said. She did. He went into panic mode, like one slightly misshapen croissant would make her hate him. That still amused her even though she'd had five breakfasts with him.

She said nothing in response as he stepped back and she followed him into the house. His lopsided smile and the effort she knew he would have gone to in order to make everything right was not enough to stave off the faint cold fear of being discovered and it was back with a vengeance.

They made their way to the kitchen, her just a little ahead of him. He threw the towel onto the counter and rested against it, waiting, wondering what the cause of her unusual silence could possibly be. "I missed you," he smiled closing the slight gap she had put between them.

She allowed him to press his lips to hers. He knew how to kiss her that was for sure and although she resisted his attempts to deepen the one they were currently sharing, just the closed-mouthed pulling of his lips was enough to have her quaking, losing her resolve. When they separated, his hand resting gently on her waist, she remained silent, her eyes boring into his.

"Everything Ok? he tried to make the question seem casual but he was feeling panicked now as he tried to go in for another kiss but she placed her hands on his chest, stopping him.

"Mmhmm," she muttered "where's Amanda?" she breathed, flashing a glance towards the staircase as his hands settled back on her waist, tracing a familiar, comforting pattern there.

"That's what you're worried about?" she could hear the laugh in his voice as he leant in and kissed her again, she surrendered for a moment before pushing him off roughly.

He stared at her in shock. She'd never been like this with him, he couldn't understand it. When she'd called him at work only yesterday, she'd been excited about their early meeting, about spending time with him, but now it was like the polar opposite of the Victoria he knew had walked into the beach house today and he wasn't sure he liked her too much. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she said averting her gaze and taking a seat at the breakfast island without invitation. "I'm fine," she said with a tight lipped smile, shaking her head when he offered her coffee. "I just think we should do some work, this benefit won't organise itself."

"Ok sure," he sighed trying not to read anything into her behaviour today as he took the seat next to her, taking a croissant and breaking off a piece which he toyed with before he returned it to his plate.

She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the pain in his eyes. "So, I heard back from the caterers. They're going to need absolute confirmation on the number of vegans in attendance, but as I explained to the man I spoke with, this is the Hamptons, something as trivial as that can change like that," she snapped her fingers and he flinched, clearly set on edge by her erratic mood.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be thinking about catering? The benefit is a month and a half away," he said tetchily.

"Yes and you know how much preparation went into the last one. This is the final gathering of our investors before the blow-out New Year's Eve party, it deserves attention."

He muttered something largely inaudible before reaching for a spreadsheet which lay a short distance away. "Speaking of investors, I just solidified a contract for a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar investment."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? That's impressive. You did that alone? That's quite an achievement."

Although he didn't quite appreciate the derogatory nature of her surprise regarding his acquisition, he was glad to see her impressed, there was something of their spark returning, he could feel it. "Well insults to my irresistible charm aside, I really didn't have much work to do on this one. The investors came to me directly with their proposal."

"Really?" that was odd. Not the nature of the business itself – faux-philanthropic investors approached Grayson Global with their chequebooks extended frequently, but she wondered how the new investors would know to ask for David. He'd only been with the company for approaching two months and most of that time had been spent in his office, trying to decode the mess that was the Foundation's financial history. That someone would approach him with a proposal directly, that they would request a face-to-face meeting with someone who was essentially a number-cruncher, was extremely questionable.

"Mmhmm," he took a sip of his coffee, watched her eye the action longingly then picked up the coffee pot "you're sure you won't have any?" he asked already pouring her a cup.

"I said no." It was blunt but she had her reasons.

"Ok," he didn't feel like getting into to it with her over a cup of coffee. "So anyway, don't you want to know who these new investors are? I'm very proud of this account..."

She knew she probably wouldn't know who they were. If Conrad had recommended David for a face-to-face acquisition, the investor would likely be some high profile foreign dignitary who fit in to some larger agenda at the company. "Tell me," she nodded, her voice instantly softening.

"A Mrs Crowley and her husband. Apparently they're big in business and looking for a PR opportunity, the GGCF is, it seems, precisely that for them," he said looking down at the data and glancing back up at her. She'd gone ghost-white and stared at some point beyond the kitchen.

_The Crowleys? _David had it right, they were big in business, it just so happened that that business was not always legitimate. Her blood ran cold as she thought about the contract that David had signed with them, if indeed it even was a contract – there was no telling what he was getting himself into. Just what did Conrad have planned for her lover and exactly why was Helen Crowley in on the deal and waving her chequebook around so openly?

"Breathe Victoria, I thought it was a little strange myself that Mrs Crowley would be the head signatory on the contract too for a moment, but as it turns out a lot of business men's wives seem to be the ones taking the lead in their pledges to the Foundation."

"It's not that," she breathed out as he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Her colour had not improved since the moment he had uttered the names of the new investors and once again he felt like he was being kept in the dark about something important. Frankly he was tired of it. "Look, Victoria, I don't know what's going on with you today, but you've been off since you got here. If something's wrong, just tell me, please."

She swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on his face rather than the rising dread of knowing that the Crowleys were somehow entangled in Conrad's incessant threats against David. "I'll handle it," she said.

"You know how many times I've heard that from you since I met you? What is there to handle and if 'you'll handle it' then why exactly do you keep saying 'you'll handle it' like it's still something you need to do?"

"Listen to me," Victoria said lacing her fingers through his "I told you before, you and I... this... it's dangerous, it's _dangerous _David. I should never have... It shouldn't have gotten this far."

"What are you talking about? How does our relationship have anything to do with the Crowleys?" he was utterly lost and felt his insignificance by comparison to her apparent omniscience.

She was silent for a moment, lost in thought, but when she looked back up at him, her eyes were cold. "I don't think you should come to the party tonight. Neither should Amanda."

"What do you mean?" their meeting was declining rapidly. This was supposed to have been a show and tell of the masks he had picked up for the ball later and now it was something much more serious than he could understand.

"I mean, you shouldn't come. It's not like you need to be there, it's not related to the Foundation – it's just the regular Hamptons set and a few of Conrad's select guests – stay home and spend the night with Amanda , you'll have a far better time I assure you. I should never have mentioned it, Amanda would be the only child there and your presence would raise questions."

"So you're saying you don't want us- me- there?" he drew back from her.

She leant across the gap, clutching his hands in hers and drawing them to her lips. "No of course not, that's _not_ what I'm saying at all." she said kissing him over and over.

"Then explain it to me," he said.

"David... I'm only going to be here until January fifth, then we return to the City penthouse until Independence day, do you understand what that means for us?"

"Look," he said, pulling his hands from her grasp. "I know it suits your little idea of what this relationship is to have me play the part of the poor ignorant man and maybe it's escaped your notice, but I'm actually pretty smart, so yeah I know what you're saying – I'm your 'just for the summer guy'," he said getting up from the breakfast island angrily and going to stand by the window where he watched the waves lick the shore and thought about how monumentally stupid he had been to be drawn in by her.

She said nothing as the truth settled between them, sliding from the barstool she occupied and following him to the window where she laid a hand on his shoulder. She half expected him to cover her hand with his but he did not, instead he bunched his shoulder shrugging her off.

She sighed heavily, massaged her temple for a moment and cleared her throat. "That's not what this is David, it's just..." he turned on her quickly as she tried to protest against the truth somewhat weakly. Holding up a hand he silenced any further dishonesty she could utter.

"Don't. It's not like I wasn't warned to expect this and by you. I shouldn't be surprised." He was cold, she hadn't known him to be this way with her before.

"Please don't make this about us," she murmured.

"Me? You're asking _me _not to make this personal? You were the one who came in here gunning for a fight."

"David, I wish you could understand, this isn't easy for me..."

"Easy for you? How do you think I feel seeing you with_ him_, stuck in a loveless marriage because you think that's all you deserve?"

"You know you can't be possessive of me..."

"Possessive? You think this is me being possessive? If I were going to stake a claim to the possession of you Victoria you'd know it."

"I didn't mean to hurt you with this," she said and she meant it.

"You really should work on your speeches then."

"David I..."

"No, you know what? It's fine," he said but he was blazing with anger. He gathered together the folders they had been working from, flipped them shut and thrust them into her hands. "Look, my daughter is upstairs sleeping and I'm sure you're very busy with the party arrangements for tonight, I think you should leave."

"What?" her voice was strained with the emotion of their fight.

"You heard me. Besides, I'm just following your advice. You told me my focus should be on protecting my daughter so that's what I'm doing. Except I've decided, it's not Conrad she needs protecting from – she knows nothing about the man apart from that he's my boss- but she does know you, she likes you and you're only going to disappoint her. It's you that Amanda needs protection from, so please, leave now before she wakes up and you have to be the one to tell her she's no longer welcome at the manor," he said pressing a firm hand to the small of her back and guiding her back towards the door.

As she found herself back on his veranda being unceremoniously turned out of his house, she whipped back around to face him, her eyes swimming with regret. "David," she said placing a hand on his chest and fisting the soft white linen between her fingers just enough to anchor her to him. "Don't let's fight, I get enough of that from Conrad, you and I..."

"Are about sex," he interrupted brashly and she recoiled in shock. "We both know that, there's little point in denying it."

"No..." she said, trying to fight him.

"Well, I'm sorry Mrs Grayson, but the beach house is closed for business today. Enjoy your party tonight," he replied and then he was gone.

* * *

As she stood there, left out in the cool October morning air, she tried to regain her composure or to at least try to make sense of what had just happened between them. She clutched the folders full of meaningless figures and the new threat the Crowleys presented to her like she was cleaving to him the way she had only moments ago. She blew out a breath knowing she had to leave or be caught as she headed to the garage, reaching into the purse she carried for the keys to her car. As she passed the conservatory, she felt Conrad's eyes on her, smiling, knowing and tried to ignore them as she sped away, becoming at once only Mrs Grayson again.

* * *

David had returned to the window, his arms braced against the sink. Anger seethed through him, red heat coursing through his veins. Why had he ever let it get this far and what exactly had just happened between them? It felt like it was over, but that would be too easy. He didn't imagine that a woman like her would let him get away with turning her out of his house cold and besides he knew that whatever his feelings right now, he didn't want it to be over between them. He closed his eyes concentrating on the happier times he'd had with her, struggling to get past her ultimate coldness, her lack of connection to him and he felt the rising dread of not having heeded her warning. If he had, he wouldn't have been the one left looking utterly ridiculous now. Victoria Grayson's '_just for the summer guy'. _He could hear the laughter of the so called 'Hamptons set' even now.

He was just about to begin clearing away the ruined breakfast when he heard the small, soft voice of his daughter behind him.

"Daddy, did you and Victoria fall out?" she asked. Of course she'd heard the argument. She'd probably been in her room concocting adventures and been startled by the raised voices, he just hoped she hadn't heard their final exchange, the last thing he needed was to complicate matters with his daughter knowing about the nature of their relationship.

He tried to laugh it off, it didn't sound right, the truth was still so raw. "Not a fall out honey, just a little disagreement."

"She uninvited us to the party didn't she?" he could hear the disappointment in her voice even before he turned to see it on her face.

He nodded, unable to say the words.

"It would have probably been a dumb party anyway," she said heavily.

"You're right. Hey, we still have our masks, what d'you say we have our own party tonight?" he suggested and she nodded with a sigh.

"She didn't even stay for breakfast?"

"Wasn't hungry. Besides, this breakfast is fit for a princess. Lucky for me, I have one right in front of me. Want some?"

"Mmhmm," she said hopping up onto the barstool. He could still sense her disappoint. "Ok, so I have a plan, after breakfast, you run right on upstairs and get dressed and then we'll go into the City, see if I can't think of something to put a smile on your face, alright?"

"Like a surprise?" she brightened.

"Exactly," he said, watching her finish her croissant in record time.

* * *

The party was in full swing and the guests were crowded all through the house. It didn't surprise him that she wouldn't miss him, he'd be lucky if he found her even once tonight. It shouldn't have been difficult, she'd called by the office last week to show him her mask for the ball – an elaborate piece of costumery adorned with feathers and crystals and all manner of pointlessly expensive trinkets. Of course, having turned up deliberately 'Hamptons early' – or fashionably late to the real world- he missed her 'on the stairs speech' welcoming them to the party and so didn't even know what colour gown she was wearing. It frustrated him immensely that he could not even make her aware of his presence.

Music pounded in his ears and as tried to make his way through the room in search of her, other guests bumped against his shoulders making no apology for it. He didn't understand why people had to be so rude. They were all part of the privileged pack, invited to the most exclusive Halloween party for miles and still they weren't happy. Now they'd made it through the door, they were restless for the opportunity to get to the free bar and like him, to her. Deciding to ditch his attempt to grab a drink at the bar, he signalled to one of the wait staff milling around the party and took a glass of champagne from the tray. Downing it, he turned his body sideways and pushed his way through crowd, determinedly making his way to the epicentre of the party where she was likely to be found surrounded by a throng of guests.

He was making progress and figured he had maybe two more layers of guests to get through until he got to the inner circle and would therefore have a better view of what was going on at the centre of the party. Conrad would undoubtedly be there, hovering at her side and he imagined, she'd be being fawned over by all the male guests bored with their wives. He was about to make a break for it, even thought he could hear her laugh, when he felt someone grab his arm and stop him in his tracks.

"Well hello there," a woman spoke to him with a lilting Southern drawl he hadn't heard in the Hamptons yet.

He turned towards the voice, trying to stifle a sigh as he ran his eyes over the woman who stood opposite him. Her mask was not nearly so elaborate as Victoria's and even his seemed to trump hers. He noticed that unlike most of the other female guests she swore a brightly coloured gown, cerise pink taffeta and silk which in his opinion clashed horrendously with the strong cascade of red hair which fell around her shoulders. "Hi," he said, feeling her eyes appraising him appreciatively.

"So..." the woman said noticing that she was already losing the attention of the man opposite her. "Who are you when you're not in disguise?" she asked, pushing them both back towards the edge of the party.

* * *

David wasn't listening to anything she was saying. His attention had been arrested the second a clearing had been made in the guests in the middle of the room and suddenly, there she was. A vision in white. The dress hugged her in all the right places and her dark, flowing curls only accentuated the porcelain beauty of his lover. God he wanted her, wanted to catch hold of her and never let her go, whisper apologies for his behaviour all night and in the morning, simply grab Amanda and take them both away from here forever. He continued to stare at her whilst the woman he was with tried in vain to get his attention. Eventually the intensity of his focus must have gotten to her since she stopped talking to a silver haired man in a bright green mask and turned her head marginally towards him, her eyes widening as she spotted him – uninvited as he had been. She shot him a look, her beautiful mouth twisting into an ugly expression before she turned her attention back to her own companion.

"I'm Mitzy," the woman breathed "Mitzy Rubenstein," she said and he wondered if he was supposed to know who she was. Her pause seemed to insinuate that she held some gravitas here.

"Nice to meet you Mitzy," he smiled tightly, feeling Victoria's glare on the back of his head, he turned slightly giving her the nice profile view of their conversation.

"So... Aren't you gonna give me your name, sugar?" she asked.

He leaned in close to her, put a hand on her hip "why'd you have to know Mitzy?" he breathed, feeling the woman – who had at least a decade on him – shake.

"Oh," she breathed, swallowing as he moved his hand higher to her waist. "It's like that," she said, getting the wrong idea about what he wanted from her. He didn't like using women, but what with the way Victoria remained fixed on them, it was an opportunity too good to pass up. Besides, Mitzy looked like she could use a smile.

"Like what?"

"Mysterious, anonymous. You know the best thing about these godforsaken parties?" she asked.

"Free bar?" he laughed sensing that she sought a drink.

She smiled and she gave him a sugary giggle. "Well, maybe there are two things. I meant the anonymity. No one has to know a damn thing about you," she said, he sensed anger in her voice and wondered who it was directed at.

"Except your name_ Mitzy_," he breathed closer to her ear. He knew from Victoria's angle across the room it would look like he had kissed Mitzy. Good. Mitzy floundered around a bit, her cheeks reddening as she realised she'd spoiled her own game. "Would you excuse me a moment? I'll get some drinks," he said already moving off before she replied.

* * *

She was all fury. How dare he? How dare he be here uninvited –looking to die-for- and how dare he flirt with another woman in front of her – especially a two-a-penny Stepford wife wannabe like Mitzy Rubenstein? It might be a masked ball but Victoria was a seasoned party host and spotted fakery and _taffeta _of all things, a mile off. She tried to focus on what Maximillian Winterbourne was saying, but all she could focus on was him and when she returned her gaze from Mr Winterbourne to him after only a second's actual concentration on what her guest had been saying, she noticed that he had disengaged from the Rubenstein woman and was coming towards her. The Hell he was. He wanted to play games? She'd give him a game of chase, only he wouldn't be a winner if she had anything to do with it.

"Excuse me ,would you Max? Conrad's right over there talking to your wife – I'm sure he'd love to hear all about the _Mrs Snuffles," _she crooned referring to the new yacht Max was planning to launch next week as she spied Conrad sleazing all over Alicia Winterbourne. Max muttered his acquiescence and then she was gone, leading her prey away from the party towards what? The kill, she thought to herself.

* * *

She was moving too quickly, heading towards a group of women who were all dressed in pale gowns, making her harder to spot. He quickened his pace, watching her zigzag between guests in an attempt to lose him. He thought he almost had, until a woman wearing black put an arm out grasping Victoria's wrist. She stilled a moment, leaned in close to the woman and exchanged a few words before continuing her attempt to leave the party. It was enough.

Letting her get just a little further ahead of him, he continued to stalk her through the party until a gap was made in the crowd and suddenly he could cover the distance between them in three steps. She must have felt his breath on the back of her neck but she remained steadfastly fixed forward. He caught her at the elbow, stopping her quickly and watched as her back collided with her chest. She wangled her arm free of his grip, probably giving herself a burn in the process and whipped around to face him, her eyes, the only part of her face he was paying any attention to in that mask, were blazing with anger.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "I warned you," she said in his ear.

"I couldn't leave things the way they were between us Victoria," he said by way of explanation. He leant in closer to her, breathing in the heady scent of her perfume and hearing the hitch in her breathing.

"Are you out of your mind?" she whispered viciously, pulling herself free of his grasp.

"I won't let this go," he said watching her eyes grow hard and cold.

She pressed their bodies close together making a show of having the man behind her jostle her into him. "Not here," she said, her pelvis colliding with his wakening desire. "My bedroom," she said and then she was off again without a single glance back.

* * *

He had only been there once but he wasn't likely to forget the route, especially given that it was the place of their first official meeting. She'd been banking on that he realised as he entered the room to find her waiting just inside the door. He locked the door without being asked and they stood in silence, their breathing heavy.

"You have something you want to say to me Mrs Grayson?" he asked, noticing her wince as he returned their relationship back to business.

"Not out here I don't," she said, pulling her mask off and discarding it on the bed he was already envisaging taking her on.

"Then where?"

She reached for him viciously then, her hand fisting around his wrist as she half dragged him towards her walk-in wardrobe. Once they were inside she flicked the lock, it couldn't hurt to be doubly secure. He discarded his own mask on the chaise-longue in the centre of the expansive dressing room.

"Mitzy Rubenstein?" she asked in disbelief.

"What about her?" he asked with a slight grin.

"_Mitzy Rubenstein. _Mitzy is an 'old hand' here in the Hamptons – the wife of a businessman who ran away with his fortune and her sister leaving her with nothing. She's only tolerated here because it looks good to show charity to her. Rumour has it she's an alcoholic and a frequent visitor to the 'pharmacy', that's a stellar association for you to make your first summer here."

"Summer? Who said anything about summer, Mitzy agreed to be my 'just for the winter girl', you know, keep my bed warm until you get back."

He didn't expect the slap when it came, but he revelled in it, it meant that this – he- meant something to her.

"Don't play games with me Mr Clarke," she hissed as he circled her almost predatorily, trying not to react to the way his cheek stung- she hardly needed another power trip.

"Games? You think this is a game – between you and me?" he asked, backing her up forcing her into the space between the chaise-longue and his body. His hands were on her without a moment's hesitation, pulling her close, smashing their bodies together.

"Take your hands off of me," she spat, defying her own self resolve as she grabbed the lapels of his jacket.

"Or what?" he goaded, fingers already inching down the zipper on the back of her dress.

"I...I..." she stumbled over the words as her dress slipped down her body, pooling at her feet. He tugged her forward out of the dress then slammed her back, lowering her to the chaise-longue and pressing himself against her as his mask fell unwanted and forgotten to the floor.

He laughed as she lost her train of thought and began struggling against him in search of his lips. "You think I'd ever go near a woman like Mitzy when I have you?" he asked, raising his eyebrow as he avoided her lips.

"David... Please..." she begged, his hands running down her body in the space between them, creating a torturous friction between the softness of her skin and the lace one piece she wore.

"Answer me," he said, already pulling the straps down, revealing the smoothness of her shoulders and collarbone to the mercy of his lips.

Her eyes flicked closed "well..." she said, arching her body against his as he got the garment to her waist. "You'd be pretty foolish to cross a woman like me... all for a woman like that," she said all confidence and assurance.

"You know," he said discarding her lingerie and setting to work on his belt buckle. "I think you're right," he finished dropping a kiss to her waiting lips at last.

* * *

They kissed for several minutes, the only sound that of their laboured breathing as she tried to get him out of his pants and he reacquainted himself with the body which was fast becoming familiar to him. Suddenly, she broke their kiss, pulling back and staring into his eyes. "David..."

"Victoria?" he murmured loving the excuse to say her name.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he felt his heart skip a beat – had she really just apologised to him?

"Ssh," he said, swiping her hair from her forehead and pressing another kiss to her mouth. "It's alright. We both said some things we didn't mean."

"What did you say that you didn't mean?" she asked. She thought she knew, but this morning it had almost ripped her heart out to hear him speak so harshly about their relationship. She needed to know that he regretted that, that she meant more to him.

"...The way I described our relationship. I should never have said we're just about sex. That's not what this is at all. Look, Victoria, there's something I've been meaning to say to you for days now so I'm just going to come right out and say it. I know I'm not supposed to and that you've given me all these warnings, but I've got feelings for you, I can't deny that and..."

"David please..."

"No. Let me talk. That way there'll be no misunderstandings between us," he said, feeling his desire for her colliding with her softness as she helped him shuck his pants and boxers.

"I love you Victoria," he said. No bravado, only those four words, just honesty, as always.

She stared up at him, dumbfounded. It was precisely what he's been expecting from her, he didn't think that she'd ever say it back but the important thing was that he knew.

"I mean it Victoria," he said moments later. "I love you," he repeated sliding into her.

If only he knew just how devastating that simple admission would be...

* * *

**There it is. I must apologise for the length of time between updates and therefore give you a giant in a bid to make up for it. I'm afraid I'm a little of my kilter at the moment and so things are moving slowly but surely. The next chapter will be the big 'Conrad knows' chapter, which I know some of you were looking forward to last time you reviewed, so I hope I do it justice. **

**Please forgive all minor editorial mishaps, I have tried my best with them. **

**Thanks for reading, xx. **


	12. The Game Changer

**Hello all, **

**Thank you for your reviews follows and comments they mean so much to me. In answer to one reviewer's questions, I'm taking some show details, like the pathway to David's arrest – although some things are altered about that too – but other details such as Conrad's relationship with Lydia for example, are moved forward in my plot in order to explain some of the tensions between Conrad and Victoria. I hadn't planned to involve Kara or Patrick in this but I do have a very clear, very different from the show ending to this one. Whether it's happy or not - - you'll have to read on to find out. I know I'm evil... but if I gave away all my secrets there'd be no story to tell. **

**I hope you enjoy this one, I think a couple of you have been waiting on it – I hope it lives up to expectations. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

Victoria ran a brush down the length of her dark curls for possibly the tenth time in as many minutes, trying to force it back into a style that didn't look so obviously sex mussed. After two more attempts, she threw the brush onto the dresser and scooped her hair up into a ponytail. At least it wouldn't be quite so noticeable now. She dabbed lip balm onto her still kiss swollen lips and tried not to think about the way she'd been forced to ask David to leave. He'd been gone for a little over thirty minutes now and yet she could still hear _those _words reverberating around the room. _'I mean it Victoria, I love you'. _Her heart filled with a mixture of emotions she hadn't felt in so long as she thought back over their time in her walk-in. They'd made love twice after his admission and throughout, she'd tried to hide from the disappointment she could see filling his eyes as both times, she failed to say that she loved him back.

He hadn't said anything and really, she hadn't expected him to. David was a quiet man she knew, which was why it had surprised her so much that they had fought at all today. He was the quietly emotive type and she realised he was probably recalling the moment she'd told him that she would never fall in love with him – after the day they'd had and the evening they'd shared, he wouldn't have wanted to tempt the fate of their relationship anymore than it already had been and so, he'd simply accepted her kisses and her soft whispers of affection as a substitute for what he'd really wanted to hear. She was grateful to him for that, she appreciated his quiet acceptance of their togetherness and it warmed her heart to know that in spite of the complicated mess of their affair and the ways she had already dealt him blows, he had been able to tell her he loved her like it was the only thing that mattered. That simple fact gave his profession an even greater honesty.

She sighed as she rubbed expensive lotion into her hands, her nightly ritual. As he'd left he'd kissed her tenderly and asked her to meet him tomorrow and she'd promised to call, prolonging their time together tonight because all she really wanted to do was sink into bed with him beside her, feel his arms around her, holding her close as his breath puffed steadily on the back of his neck. She was surprised by how quickly their relationship had grown in the short weeks it had been established. At first she'd thought she'd use him – for the fulfilment of her needs and yes, to level the playing field between Conrad and herself, but now she longed for him in the strangest moments – when she was trying on a gown for a benefit, it was his opinion she sought, when she had been shopping in the City and had spotted a one hundred flavour ice cream parlour, she'd wanted to call him and ask him to bring Amanda right in, her treat. She just wanted to be with him and she supposed that was why his cruel words this morning had hurt so much – because she felt that their relationship was about so much more than carnal sexual exchanges and yes, she could imagine a life with him. He had gone though, back down to the party and out to his beach house and now she was up here alone, listening to the distant sounds of guests filtering out, the free bar drained and the hired musicians concluding their last set. She hated how alone she could feel in this huge house, even when it was still filled with people she called hers.

* * *

She was just contemplating getting into bed, not wanting to step outside of this room and away from the memory of David, when she heard a knock at her door. She blew out a breath knowing who would be there. She stood up reluctantly; her silk negligee fluttering around her legs as she grabbed her dressing gown from the back of the door and slung it on, catching it on her elbows and knotting the tie.

"Yes?" she asked tersely.

"_There _you are," Conrad replied, equally as terse.

"Where else would I be?" she asked, still not opening the door.

"Oh I don't know Victoria, how about at the party you were supposed to be hosting?" There it was- that sarcasm which she responded so badly to. It brought out the worst Victoria she could possibly be.

"_I _was the host? Forgive me Conrad, but is it, or is it not, _your _name that lends itself to the company?"

"I think that you'll remember my dear that the company is _Grayson_ Global, you are a Grayson, you have a responsibility to be at any functions we host under that name," he said.

That grated on her, really grated. How dare he treat her this way? She was throwaway to him as often as he pleased and when it suited him, she had to turn on the 'good little wife' act. She would not have that. "Well," she said wrenching the lock and pulling the door open, taking care to square up to her husband as she did so. "For your information I have a migraine – brought on by the throngs of people pressing themselves down upon me as if touching me will bring them even a slither of our _success," _she said the word with such bitterness "—and you're only making it worse," she hissed.

He said nothing as they glared at each other, their eyes shooting daggers and passing the dangerous sexually charged chemistry they'd always had between them. Looking at her now dressed in ivory silk, he was suddenly overcome by the need to be the one pressing himself down upon her – into her. She tried to keep him out of the room, but he turned his body, his shoulder connecting with the wooden door frame, preventing her from keeping him out.

"A migraine huh? That came on pretty quickly," he said pushing his way into the room and shutting the door.

"I could hardly have planned it," she said, stalking away from him and hating that she could feel him following her.

"People noticed your absence you know, it got quite awkward," he said.

She considered replying with some snappy comment, but declined the opportunity, changing the subject. "I bumped into Helen Crowley downstairs," she said casually waiting for his response.

It came. His face stilled, his eyes grew hard and he swallowed, searching for an appropriate reply. "Well, it is Halloween. It's only fitting that all the monsters come out from beneath whatever rock they live under for the rest of the year," he said with a forced laugh.

She rounded on him then, the distance she always maintained from him shrinking. "Do you think I'm stupid? Don't play games with me Conrad," she said, her hands shooting out and connecting with his chest, shunting him back a step. As she pushed him, an image of David's face after the blow she had dealt it shot into her mind. She flicked her eyes closed, swallowed. When she opened them again he was still there, her kindly, gentle lover but he stared back at her with Conrad's cold eyes.

"Games? To what are you referring _now _Victoria?"

She drew in an exasperated breath, her body shaking with anger. "What does Helen Crowley want with David Clarke?"

She'd hit the nail on the head, she could tell but she knew he'd never let her win. She was just about to push it further when he grabbed her wrist, pulled her in close until her body slammed against his. He was erect. She was disgusted.

"I can smell him on you Victoria," he said, his voice so low, a mere whisper that she almost thought had been in her mind. "Hugo Boss and sex," he continued, leaning in close and breathing in the scent of her. No, he definitely was not imagining things, along with the dying remains of the Chanel she so liberally spritzed on her skin, there were the distinct smells of cologne and the sweet-stickiness of sex. She'd been with him, tonight, here in the hub of the marriage.

She was filled with dread. She hated the way that it had slipped from him so casually and then she knew, tonight, this mistake – her mistake – was not the first time he had heard about their relationship. She wracked her brain, trying to think of any possible explanation and then it hit her. _Margarita. _Conrad had returned for that latest business trip with a foul mood and – when she had searched his briefcase later that same evening she'd found it – a medical report detailing an abortion for Miss Mendes. She'd bet anything that the former housemaid would have traded intel on Victoria's 'red dress' for the money to start a new Grayson free life. Smarter than she looked then. She tried to back up, but his grip on her arm remained firm. She let out a stifled breath and settled on a response.

* * *

"What does American Initiative want with David, Conrad?" her voice shook with emotion. She had feared this moment since the inception of her relationship with David and now it was upon her, she didn't know how to behave. She'd simply assumed she'd have more time to figure out what she was going to say.

"Why is David so important to you?" he asked and his question was genuine – she'd had plenty of opportunities in the past and as far as he knew, she'd never taken a single one and yet, as they stood in their bedroom together, him still with a tight grip on her wrist, he could feel the quickening of her pulse beneath his fingertips at the mention of the other man's name. Unconsciously, he stroked her pulse point tenderly, watching as her face – usually so regally beautiful it was unreadable- twisted into a look of utter repulsion.

Her breathing was heavy; he pushed himself closer to her, thrilling at the involuntary convulsion of her body. "You'd better take your hands off of me or so help me Conrad, I'll..."

"You'll what Victoria?" he asked, daring to push her even further as he forced his mouth onto hers. She was stunned and he took advantage of those stupor-filled seconds to kiss his wife properly for the first time in months. She seemed to being allowing it too, or so he thought, until he felt the sharp shock of her teeth as they closed around his probing tongue.

* * *

He pulled away sharply, his hands sliding from her wrist up to her neck where he applied pressure to her windpipe for several seconds. His intention was not to hurt her, rather to remind who he was, who she was – _wha_t she was - but it felt good to exert this kind of physical power over her – it was something he had lost over the course of their marriage. She struggled against him, losing strength. Good. Her legs flailed, her hands scratching at his in an attempt to free herself. He wrenched her against him, his lips brushing her ear. "Answer the question, Victoria," he said preparing to release her. They had grown still, their heavy breathing hot and fast in the roaring silence. She took the opportunity to free herself, jabbing her knee into his groin.

His hands lost their grip and she threw herself violently across the room. "If... you...ever...touch me... like... that again... Conrad..." she said through gasping breaths. She was silent for a few minutes as she rubbed at her throat and tried to recover.

* * *

"I mean it," she said as she crossed to the vanity, approaching him wearily. "If you put your hands on me _ever_ again, I will press charges. I am not poor little Vicky Harper anymore Conrad, I will not respond to violence and I do not owe you a single thing. Victoria Harper could be someone now you know," she ranted as she inspected the red anger of his finger marks on her throat. That would take work to cover in the morning.

"Now, you'd better tell me what on Earth you've done this time because if anything happens to David, you _will_ pay."

"_The Initiative is closing in on the company Victoria. It has to be this way, if not I'll be ruined and you'll be left alone to raise Daniel in shame and scandal, is that what you want?" _

Her face registered shock and he liked it. It was the realisation that their life, their money, their very existence was not infinite. It felt good to share the burden he had been carrying with her, it didn't matter to him that this would worry her, distance her further, all that mattered was hurting her in any way he could and tonight, here in this room, he had to discovered two ways to do that. One by continuing his campaign against David Clarke and secondly by threatening to send her crashing back to Earth with a very realistic bump.

"Of course not," she said, her voice still raspy. It was amazing how quickly she became obedient when their life hung in the balance or when he brought Daniel into the equation, having his son had not only been beneficial for his empire – he also proved to be a great bargaining chip too.

"Well, then, it has to be this way," he said.

"Why him?" her voice was overflowing with so many emotions he could not even begin to decode.

Conrad shook his head. "I asked you the very same question and you refused to answer, you want me to answer you, show me the same courtesy."

She blew out a breath, running her hands along her arms –suddenly experiencing a chill. "Alright, you really want to know?" she waited a beat, he nodded.

"I chose him..." she paused trying to think of how to phrase it but knowing instinctively how she would answer. "I chose him because he is the opposite of you. He is kind and honest and doesn't have a bad bone in his body. I choose to be with him over you because when he touches me, I know that he would never, ever cause me harm the way you just did and I know that earlier tonight, when he told me he loves me, he meant that from the bottom of his heart," she said only regretting that last admission for David's sake.

"He loves you?"

She didn't answer him, just tried to stare him down.

"...and you love him." It wasn't a question. He looked at his wife and he could see it there in her eyes, defense and passion the like of which she'd never shown him.

"Why does it have to be him Conrad?"

"Well, that is interesting," he replied.

"Answer the damned question Conrad," she hissed.

"Ironically my pretty, David Clarke has been chosen precisely for the reasons you detailed. He's honest and he's good and on a more personal level, he loves you. That just makes it all worthwhile, to see you lose him, to see him lose you...When news of the _upcoming event_ breaks, it will be a huge shock to the world, to the company, a scandal – it couldn't possibly have been honest David Clarke could it? - and that will take the pressure and the spotlight from me, from us. It's quite perfect actually," he said wearing that irritating smirk which made her want to slap him.

"You are truly despicable."

"Oh I know, my dear."

"You are the worst example of humanity I have ever known."

"I highly doubt that Victoria and besides, you're looking upon your own work. How does it feel to know that I'm a monster of your creation?"

"I am not responsible for what you have become Conrad. I know you like to think you made me, but _I_ did not make_ you_ the monster that you are."

"On the contrary – your cold heart has turned me into something equally cold – emotionless, devoid."

"My cold heart is a matter of your own opinion Conrad," she said, hurt more than she would show him by his cruel words.

"Right. Of course, you know I'll have to ask David Clarke exactly how he _warms_ you up," he said bitterly.

"You'll do no such thing. You'll stay away from him."

"Yes, I will. Thank you for the suggestion. I think the next step in the process we're all involved in has to be handed over to you. If you really are as close to him as you say then you'll have to play a part from now on. Yes, that will work nicely. It's time to play a different game Victoria, it's time for you to take on your responsibilities," he said.

"I'll have no part in hurting him."

"No, you won't. You'll have a part in keeping him alive. Trust me, it'll be better this way – at least he'll survive. Frankly I'd rather see him burn, but if he means that much to you, this is the way to protect him from The Initiative."

She swallowed hard. She'd never had any personal dealings with The Initiative per se, she'd kept key players happy and she'd heard of their wrath and she recognised that the threat they posed was real, which was why she paid heed to Conrad's words, he knew she would of course.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked quietly and waited for him to explain.

* * *

Victoria felt sick. She'd been warning David about some impending doom for weeks but now she knew the danger of it, she realised that warnings had not been adequate. She should have insisted, should have broken all ties with him – their relationship should never have gotten off the ground and yet it had and now she could see only the black hole of the future. Part of her wanted to run to the beach house right now, middle of the night or not, it didn't matter. Conrad knew now and she had nothing more to lose than what she stood to lose if American Initiative's plan succeeded, but a bigger part of her knew she had to agree, for the sake of Daniel and for the sake of her own survival.

Conrad was already at the door, having secured the agreement he needed. She hated him but it ran much deeper than that – she physically detested him and yet she knew that she would always be anchored to him, no matter what. As he made to leave she spoke up, some of the first words since she'd heard the awful plan The Initiative had concocted for her lover. "You couldn't let me have him could you?"

"You have it all wrong Victoria. I couldn't let _him _have _you_, I could have loved you you know, for everything you are -for what I've made you," he said and although he used the same phrasing as David had, he lacked all of his sincerity.

"David loves me, just for me – he doesn't think I'm a monster, though I wouldn't blame him now and I..." she paused, the words catching in her throat.

"Say it. Admit it."

She was hesitant but suddenly felt the urge to be honest, completely as David always was with her. "I love him," she said watching her husband go.

She'd uttered the words to her husband and the man they were meant for didn't even know yet, perhaps never would...

* * *

**Well there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. It turned out a little differently than I imagined but that's the way it goes I suppose. Please let me know what you thought. **

**You'll see a section of Conrad's dialogue in italics, it's a quotation from the show but for the life of me I couldn't remember or find the episode it was from. I thought maybe 'Legacy' or Duplicity, but I watched them back today and couldn't locate it so maybe I have that wrong, anyway why I mentioned it is just in case it is semi-accurate – I'm sorry about that. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, I've done my best with them. **

**Thanks as always for reading,**

**Xx **


	13. Honesty

**Hello all, **

**Thank you for your reviews and interest, they mean so much to me. It seems I'm slowly getting back on form with this one; I just want to write it all day long, which is only a good thing in terms of updates. Here comes the next part for you, I hope you enjoy it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_November..._

It had been two weeks since the party and he still hadn't seen her. She had called him on Sunday explaining that she had the mess from the previous evening to have seen to and a migraine to boot. He wasn't sure he'd believed her then, but since that call, they'd spoken on the phone almost every day. Usually she'd call whilst he was in the middle of a report or trying to look over the latest set of figures for the Foundation and he always found himself distracted to the point that the numbers became nothing more significant than blurs on the page. He was a little ashamed to say that on more than one occasion, he'd verified the figures without actually checking them. He was on top of it, the Foundation was not in nearly so bad a state as he had found it in and he was sure that the books would balance, or at least, that was what he told himself when he was listening to her sultry voice telling him about her day or what she imagined them doing. The opportunity to speak out the words 'I love you' was just too good to pass up.

It was a Tuesday and Conrad was on a 'business trip' in where was it this time Texas? Tennessee? More than likely he was at some hotel just outside of the City. He had lost track of all the lies he had been fed since he'd joined this company. It was a little after one and since his boss was absent and his secretary had called in sick, there was nothing stopping him from taking an extended lunch break – he deserved it. For the Foundation's 'numbers guy' he had been exceptionally busy since the party. He was sure he remembered Victoria saying that things usually slowed up in terms of investors in the run up to Christmas – apparently the holiday signified the temporary suspension of philanthropy for these people – but that did not seem to be the case this year. In the last three days alone he'd had investment amendment documents from the Crowleys' office maybe six times – each time, the money they invested decreased- like they were aware of some misfortune his databases did not predict. On the seventh call, they had withdrawn, suggesting that they were taking their investment to Grayson Global's biggest competitor – it was certainly an oddity. Switching on the 'out of office' diversion on his phone, he left the office and went to the parking lot for his car. He needed to get out of the City. He needed to see her. Amanda was still at school and considering he was supposed to be working, Gretchen would collect her at three twenty five, at which point he imagined he'd be back at the office anyway, but either way he had some hours to spare and he wanted to spend them with his lover.

* * *

He parked in his space behind the beach house and decided to bypass stopping by – there was every chance Gretchen would be there and he didn't want to her alarm her or make her suspicious of his sudden appearance, so he headed directly towards the manor. The imposing property stood resolute in the mid-fall sunlight and there was a silence about it that seemed to hum, giving it a voice of sorts. He considered going to the front door, but thought better of it, remembering what she had said about Conrad having eyes everywhere. Instead he headed around the side of the property with the notion that perhaps she would be in the conservatory and would therefore see his approach. The appendage was however, unfortunately empty, so he headed to the rear of the property towards the pool house. How exactly he thought she would know he was there, he didn't know, but he would figure that out once he got there. Fortunately for him, someone saw to that before he had to.

"I'm sorry sir, but all visitors are expected to make themselves known at the main entrance," a man's voice spoke from somewhere to his right. Turning towards the voice, David realised it was the pool guy. Yes the Graysons had a pool guy and he had just made him feel like he was keeping an appointment at the office rather than visiting the Grayson home.

"Oh, hi," David said, completely ad-libbing as he watched the man fish some leaves from the water before beginning to roll a tarp across the surface. "Actually, I wonder if you could do me a favour. I work for Grayson Global – the Charitable Foundation specifically and my office just received a call from Mrs Grayson requesting a meeting out here on the patio, about the winter benefit. I thought she'd be here but..." he trailed off watching the pool guy wipe his hands on his overalls already going to towards the house.

"I'll go see if someone can notify Mrs Grayson of your arrival," he said grudgingly.

"Thanks. Appreciate it," David called after him, watching the other man wave his hand dismissively as he headed into the property.

* * *

It took several minutes, but Victoria eventually got the message and from the seat he had taken on the patio he saw her approach, the pool guy in her wake.

"Ah Mr Clarke, thank you for your prompt response to my call," she said in that lilting 'hostess' voice of hers as she shot him a look of bemused confusion.

"It's no trouble," he said rising to meet her and shaking her proffered hand.

As she dismissed the pool guy with a quick "That'll be all Rodrigo," he couldn't help but notice how pale she was – it was deeper than the usual porcelain of her skin.

* * *

They were silent as they listened to the heavy footsteps of Rodrigo as he left; probably contemplating just how many more hours work the pool would take tomorrow, especially with the storm that was forecast for the next few days in spite of the deceiving pleasantness of the afternoon.

Finally alone, he was about to ask her if she was alright when she pushed her lips on to his, kissing him hungrily. He let her for a moment, before pulling away as if he had been burned.

"Victoria..." he was shocked by her openness.

She smiled, running her fingers along his cheekbone "he knows, David."

"What?"

"He knows. It's alright," she said drawing his body closer to hers and wrapping her arms around him. "No one can dig their vicious little knives in anymore," she added taking support from the strength of his embrace in her fragile state. "What're you doing here?" she whispered in his ear.

"I had to see you," he told her, his breath still stolen by the revelation she had just made.

"I'm not really dressed for visitors," she said, pulling the white linen shirt she wore more tightly around her body.

"You look perfect to me," he said because it was true.

She looked away, blushing. "I'm sorry I haven't been by, or that I hadn't told you about Conrad," she said, her eyes fixed on a point just over his shoulder.

"It's kind of a big thing. Hard to tell me over the phone. It's alright. Besides, I've been crazy busy at work – there's always a report to write, a database to go over."

"I'm sorry,"

"Hey, what're you apologising for? It's not you who's loading me down," he laughed a little, pushing a wisp of her hair from her face.

"No," she said, her eyes downcast. That wasn't the truth; she had been the one calling him asking him to just look at this, just look at that on Conrad's orders for the past two weeks. She felt sick and not just because she actually felt sick, but because her stomach turned at the thought of what she was doing to him. She swayed, seeing white spots.

"Victoria..." he grabbed her shoulders, steadying her "are you alright?"

"Mm hmm," she nodded her hand going to her temple.

"Not buying it, here, sit down," he said guiding her to the chair he had been occupying so recently.

"I'm fine; really, I've just been feeling a little off is all."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"It's just all the parties that's all."

"You know what you need?"

"What do I need?" she asked as he drew her wrist to his lips and kissed it.

"Some good clean sea air, a walk on the beach."

She nodded. "Sounds perfect," she said. "Let me go change."

"You don't need to. You're beautiful as you are."

"...and you're a flatterer."

"It's true, come on. Let's go," he told her offering her his arm as he lead them towards the beach.

* * *

They walked for a while. They did not touch but they were close enough to feel the warmth of the other. She was breathing deeply, trying to steady herself as she upturned her face to the weak sunlight and tried to feel the healing benefit of the clean air. Frankly she felt more fortification from the presence of the man beside her. They were almost at the water's edge when she began to feel woozy again and grabbed his arm, preventing him from going any further. He did not say anything, simply guided them both down to the sand and cradled her body with his. She settled against him, instantly feeling the rising nausea abating as she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. After a lengthy silence in which they listened only to the roar of the waves, he spoke.

"What does this mean Victoria, for us I mean?"

She drew in a tense breath, running her hand along the forearm he had wrapped around her. "David, I know you want me to say that this changes everything for us and I really wish I _could_ say that, but nothing can change between us. It just means you're no longer a secret, an unsaid thing between Conrad and I, he can't hurt us with his taunts and speculation."

He sighed, sinking his face into her neck and kissing the scented skin there. "I hate this, you know that right?"

"I know, she turned her head marginally towards him nuzzling against him. "Me too," she said.

They descended into silence again and he continued to brush kisses against her neck, pushing her hair away until his eyes met the remaining purple bruising left by Conrad's anger. "What did he do to you?" his voice became dark, a growl almost as she winced. She knew she should have covered it this morning, just in case.

She turned herself towards him further, brushing her lips against his. "It was nothing. Really," she insisted.

"Nothing? That doesn't look like nothing to me - that looks like he's been putting his hands on you and I will..."

"You'll do_ nothing_. You have to stay away from him David; it's already dangerous enough that we're continuing this now. Besides, Conrad knows never to touch me like that again. Please promise me," she begged.

"Victoria..."

"Promise me."

"Alright," he said anger still bubbling inside of him "I promise. But you should know,_ I_ would never hurt you like that."

"I _do_ know that and that means more to me than anything else you could do or say. Your gentleness means so much to me David."

He said nothing. There seemed to be nothing he could say, nothing that made any of this Ok. His blood still boiled from the thought of_ that _man hurting her, putting his hands on her, frightening her like that but he knew she was right, he had to be careful. She was too important to him.

They watched the waves for a while longer and he tried to calm his nerves by taking comfort from her closeness but his heartbeat still raged loudly in his ears, the anger he felt like thunder against his skull.

"Come away with me Victoria," he said after a while, the idea suddenly solidifying in his mind. It was the solution he had sought for weeks.

"What?" she asked, breathless with shock.

"I mean it. Let's just go."

"David, I've told you before – I can't leave Daniel. Please, don't ask me to choose this way," she said "and what about Amanda?"

"Who said anything about choosing? I mean, let's go get Daniel and just get out of here, the four of us: you, me, Amanda and Daniel, we could go anywhere you wanted – be anyone we wanted."

"Just grab him and go? You really haven't thought this through have you?"

"What's to think through?" he paused, she shot him a look. "I'm serious. Amanda loves you and you know _I _love you, we could be a family Victoria. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"God..." she said getting up from the sand "I can't do this right now David. I just can't," she said making her way down to the water's edge.

* * *

He let her be for a few minutes but then followed her to the seafront, sensing that was what she really wanted. He didn't touch her, didn't want to give her the opportunity to shrug him off so instead he stood just to her right, watching the ocean with her.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while "it was too fast, I know that."

"No," she said immediately. That wasn't the reason for her protest at all. She had thought about a life with him, how good it would be. She dreamed of taking Daniel out of school and escaping with David to a magical new life where she could just be herself and watch her son enjoy his childhood at the side of the man she loved, it just wasn't practical. "It's a fine fairytale, but that's just it. It's a fairytale and this – you and I – is as far from a fairytale as it is possible to be," she said.

"Why?"

"Oh David, because it would never be as simple as leaving with our children -with _my_ child. Don't you see? Conrad would subject me to a vicious custody battle and he'd win and then, I'd be left with nothing – my son would be gone, the money... everything and all I'd have left would be resentment, I don't want to resent you."

"I can take care of you Victoria, of us and we'd have each other."

"If I lost Daniel then even you wouldn't be enough," she said sadly.

"I understand," he said.

"No, you don't."

"I do, it's Ok. I know that this was too much to ask - you told me as much when this started."

"David, it's not that I don't want what you're offering me..."

"It's just that this life means more to you..."

"No. I don't want you to think of it like that, at all."

"How else am I supposed to see it Victoria? He hurt you, he doesn't know how to love you and here I am, right here waiting to love you the way you deserve to be loved and you keep pushing me away."

"David I have to tell you something," she said stepping forward and gripping his hand tightly in hers.

"You don't need to suffer like this..."

"I love you," she said quietly, the wind whipping through her long dark hair as the words came out on a single breath.

David stopped short, stared at her blankly. "What?"

"You heard what I said," she told him stepping closer and letting her hand settle on his waist. I didn't matter that they were in public, the beach was practically deserted by now anyway. "I love you," she said again loving the sound of the words out loud and said to the right man, at last.

"What?" he said again in disbelief. This was what he had wanted, this was what he had longed to hear her say since he'd told her he loved her two weeks ago, but he never thought he'd actually hear her say the words. "I thought you said it could never happen," he said, wanting nothing more than to kiss her until he ran out of breath but knowing that he had to show at least some restraint.

"Clearly, my own rules don't apply when it comes to you," she smiled.

"I'm glad," he said.

"You are?"

"I am," he said resolutely.

"When do you have to be back at work?" she asked.

"No with any urgency," he said "the boss is out of town after all. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'm feeling much better," she said close to his ear "I wondered if I might reacquaint myself with the beach house?"

He smiled "any room in particular?" he said as he reluctantly let go of her hand and began to retreat up the beach.

"Oh I did have one in mind."

* * *

In an office five blocks away from Grayson Global, Conrad Grayson sat at a boardroom table in an unmarked room. Helen Crowley sat opposite him wearing a smug expression he didn't appreciate. He was as much a part of this as anyone else around this table and, as he cast his eyes around, he saw that today's meeting was obviously important. The entirety of the organisation which called itself 'American Initiative' had come out, himself included and he couldn't help but feel that things were going to be progressing at a faster rate than he had anticipated. Not that he was complaining. Anything that would rid him of David Clarke was fine by him, not to mention the benefits it would bring to his marriage. With her lover out of the picture, Conrad would teach the unruly Victoria exactly how to be his wife again and all would be set to rights between the Hamptons' most elite power couple.

"You've done well Conrad," an older man with silvery hair and a name he'd never cared to remember commented as he finished casting his eye over the latest ledgers David Clarke had unwittingly manipulated in their favour.

"Yes," someone else commented. "This should generate the fear we need to make a huge profit."

"You know, I never understood the necessity for terrorisation," Conrad said a kernel of doubt blossoming somewhere deep inside of him. He supposed it was the same place that made him conscious of Victoria's responses to his multiple sins. _'Despicable' - _that word was never far from his thoughts.

"No, you never did and that's why you'll never run this operation Conrad, you'll always be a pawn and you make a good one too," Helen told him with the smallest smirk which filled him with anger. How dare she talk about him that way?

As he looked around, waiting for approval from the other members of the organisation, he realised that she was probably not the only one who was of that opinion. He noticed several smirks and nods of agreement and he seethed. Didn't they understand the sacrifice he was making? It was _his_ company which was about to be dragged through the dirt, it was _his_ reputation which would take years to rebuild and for what? For a wife who enjoyed all the finer things in life but deserved none of them, at least not anymore. That was what it came down to after all. His business was not nearly so successful as he liked to pretend and at current sixty percent of his so called 'investors' were of American Initiative loyalties and would disappear the second their involvement needed to go underground. He would be left with almost nothing and he was desperate for his pay out, his share.

"We need to move on this Conrad, the winter benefit your wife is so graciously holding should be the nail in the coffin for Mr Clarke, let's give him the time to sort through the figures and then have his final databases seized. There should plenty of evidence to link him to the 'terrorist organisation' who will bring down United One-Ninety-Seven," Helen instructed.

"Those are my orders?" he asked sarcastically, casting his eyes around and receiving nods of affirmation.

"Right," he said getting up and leaving. There was little point in staying where he wasn't wanted.

* * *

She had had him out of his shirt and tie the second he had closed the door behind them and she hung them half-heartedly on the banister as he took her hand and lead her upstairs, no fights, no arguments, no lack-lustre attempts to justify why they shouldn't be together, just complete compliance.

She leaned into him, her body cocooning itself around his as she pressed a kiss to his lips which instantly deepened. Their tongues fought one another, neither one winning in a battle which was futile as she reached down between them and found his belt buckle...

* * *

Conrad didn't quite know what to do. He'd told Victoria he was on a business trip and she'd know there was something wrong if he suddenly turned up at home now – or worse they'd get into another fight about his many mistresses – not that she was one who could talk anymore – and frankly he couldn't deal with anymore anger. There was no telling what he would do.

Pulling out his cell, he dialled Lydia. It went straight to answer phone and he knew what that meant – that she was with her fiancé Michael and that he shouldn't disturb her- she was on her vacation after all, but he needed something – something only she could given him. He dialled and dialled but still, there was no answer. Getting in his car and making a decision, he drove through the Burroughs until he reached the quiet street on which he now knew Margarita Mendes lived on – foolishly the girl had leased her apartment in his name and his realtor had called him with the abnormality. Conrad had spun some yarn, but he couldn't help thinking that the former housemaid had wanted him to know where she lived.

Parking far enough away from her apartment block he made his way towards the building, deciding not to buzz when he noticed that she occupied six 'a' but waiting instead for another resident to come out, letting him in. The wait was miniscule and soon he was climbing the stairs to the sixth floor.

She opened the door on the first knock and he wondered if she had a 'peep-hole', in the next beat he wondered if that mattered. She was slender, but somehow filled the doorway and she wore a knowing smirk on her face. He said nothing and neither did she. He simply advanced on her, forcing her back into the apartment and pressing her against the wall as his foot kicked the door closed...

* * *

She had reversed their positions and was walking him back towards the bed. He was now down to his boxers, whilst the most he had managed to rid her of was her denim shorts. He went for her shirt, but every time he got a good grip, she moved just out of his way and he wondered what the matter was this time.

"Victoria, what is it?" he asked feeling a distinct sense of déjà vu.

"Nothing," she said dropping a kiss to his mouth as she tried to push him back down onto the bed. "Nothing," she said again.

"It's something Victoria; you're not upset with me again are you?"

"Upset? No. Where would get an idea like that?" she asked, her lips already skimming his shoulder blades as she struggled against him, finally forcing him back and enabling herself to straddle him.

"It's just you seem a little reluctant, now we've actually gotten to the bedroom."

"Reluctant? I'm not reluctant at all," she said thrusting her hand into his underwear and gripping him. "I just don't look my best, that's all."

"Not your best? I don't know what you're talking about. You're beautiful, so what exactly is this message I'm missing here?"

She didn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to concentrate all her efforts on his chest as her hand worked him into frenzy. It was working, she could tell. His breathing became erratic but he lost none of his intensity. She'd have to say something.

"How often do you think of the first time?" she asked distractedly. It was a way to answer his question, or so she told herself.

He laughed a little awkwardly, playing with her hair as he tried to control himself, her fingers were doing delicious things to him and soon he would be completely hard and ready for her. "Whenever we're apart," he breathed in a rush of air.

"Really?" she seemed surprised.

"Hmm," he muttered. She had his boxers halfway down his thighs now and he throbbed for her. "Why?"

"No reason," she said as she shifted, dispensing with her own underwear and preparing for their connection.

"No," he told her and his voice was harsh. "Not until you're naked," he said with a smile.

"David..."

"I'm serious Victoria," he said.

Changing the subject she said "I've been thinking about it a lot recently, for a lot of reasons," she amended her previous answer, trying to distract herself as he undid button after button on her white shirt.

"What reasons?"he asked, throwing the shirt off somewhere behind him. Now all that was left between them was her purple tank and bra.

"Please, David..." she begged not ready to have this conversation, but knowing that she had to.

"You can't bring up a subject and then expect me to drop it," he said lifting her tank from the hem and dragging it off her pale exquisiteness. "Now, what is it? The other night you barely let me undo that one piece you had on and now this today..."

"Can't you see?" she asked surrendering to him and reaching behind herself to unhook her bra. "Don't you know?" she asked, taking his hand and guiding it over her body.

* * *

Her head dropped back as he paused at her breasts, cupping them gently, his thumbs flicking her pink peaks. Allowing his dalliance, she waited before she continued her erotic journey with his hand over her body, moving steadily lower until she settled his hand over the cradle between her hips. It felt good to have his hands on her, resting over the secret she had been keeping, like he was already as protective of it as she was –even though she was yet to say the words.

"I was always lucky with Daniel...people hardly noticed at all, but I know you will soon..." she said easing herself back until her head was at the foot of his bed and he was leant over her, his hand still firmly in place and a look of gradual realisation dawning on his face.

"Are you..."

"David I'm pregnant," she said and it was the sweetest relief to say the words.

"You're pregnant?" he sounded dumbfounded but the smile on his face told her he thought it was good news.

"I am," she said unable to hide her own smile.

"Victoria, you know how amazing that is don't you?"

"I do now," she said, kissing the hand which rested on her face.

"How far gone are you?"

She hesitated, would he get mad? There was only one way to find out. "Three months next week," she said.

"Three months? You've known that long?" he seemed surprised not angry.

"No. I mean, of course I suspected but I only found out a little over two weeks ago. I guess I was afraid to know for sure what with things the way they are and well, then we had that fight and thought it was over between us. I was scared that if I told you, you'd think I was trying to trap you or something."

"Why would you ever think that?" he asked laughing a little as he dropped a kiss to her mouth. He lost track of what he was saying, everything overwhelming him. "I can't believe we're going to have a baby," he said.

"The first sonogram's next Friday," she said, running her hands over his bare back.

"Friday. I'll be there."

"You will?"

"Try and stop me," he said, settling himself over her. "Wait three months? The first time?" he asked, she nodded as she opened her thighs for him, welcoming him without protest.

"Wow. Wait, you're sure we should?" he asked.

"I'm pregnant David, not dead and you're always so gentle. I want you. Now," she said, her whole body suddenly pulsing for him.

His entry of her was quiet as it so often was and he gripped her hands, keeping eye contact with her throughout every movement they made together.

* * *

"Victoria," he said after a while, his voice strained as he neared his climax sometime later.

"Mm?" she replied, her eyes fixed on his.

"You have to leave him now, I'll take care of you, you know that right?

She stared up at him, frozen for a moment. This was what she had been afraid of and with what she knew was on the horizon, she wondered if she'd done more harm than good by telling him. But then she looked into his eyes, really looked and she saw how happy this had made him. At least she had given him that, even if she could give him nothing else. That was what she told herself as she thought about the ways it would tear a man like David apart to be away from her when he knew she was pregnant with his child and that was before she even considered Amanda. Oh God... Amanda... He was looking her with a worried expression and she knew she had to respond before he panicked too much.

"Yes," she told him because maybe just for a moment she believed they could actually have the fairytale. Added to that momentary disillusionment was the fact that in that moment she'd have told him anything to see that smile, that contentment, that happiness as he whispered the words 'I love you' against her lips...

* * *

**Well there it is. I hope you liked it. This was my interpretation of the flashback beach 'I love you' scene in case you were wondering. Oh and yes, I know that David never knew about Charlotte, but in my story he does... because well... you'll have to wait and see, I hope you liked the little hints I dropped throughout this chapter, kudos to those who reached the conclusion before Victoria said the words. I'll get right on the next part ASAP. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial issues; I've tried my best with them. **

**Thanks, as always, for reading **

**Xx **


	14. Easier in Bed

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thanks for maintaining interest in this one and still sending me reviews and checking about updates. The truth is I've had a bit of wobbly time but I'm hoping to be back on it with my writing now. So here it comes the next chapter of this one, I hope you enjoy it. **

**The title of this chapter is inspired by the song of the same name by Emeli Sande, so all credit where it's due. Also my author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

_January. _

Although it had been as obscenely opulent an occasion as he had predicted, David Clarke could not say that he'd had much time to revel in the festive season. Too bogged down by the endless numbers Conrad or others like him kept having delivered to the house in spite of his entitlement to vacation time, he had experienced the Christmas period as something of a blur. He had however, forced himself to stop for the duration of Christmas day itself, just long enough to give Amanda the golden Labrador puppy he knew would bring a smile to her face. Of course his nine year old had fallen madly, deeply in love with Sammy, her new companion and for a reason that he couldn't quite explain, this made everything seem worse. Of course, he was delighted that his daughter was happy, but he had been experiencing a sense of foreboding which told him that perhaps to introduce Sammy into the family now was a bad idea. He supposed in a way, his purchase of the dog was his way of denying the feeling that he was becoming increasingly boxed in by his work at Grayson Global, trapped even though into what, he could not say.

Of his lover Victoria, he had seen almost nothing. He'd heard the racket of the endless parties over at Grayson manor and had seen people coming and going like vultures swarming on their good fortune, but the woman he loved had become almost like a distant memory to him. He'd seen her one night when he'd been sitting out on the veranda, standing on her balcony looking out towards the ocean with an expression he could not fathom. He'd wanted to call up to her but he was as ever aware that he could make things awkward for her whilst she maintained the facade of her marriage to Conrad. After a while however, it was as if she'd sensed his presence and she cast her eyes down towards him, a flicker of recognition and emotion lighting them up before she offered him a small wave and disappeared inside. He had so wanted to talk to her and had only attended the New Year's party he'd helped her plan in order to see her. Of course Bill, his friend and confidant thought that he had been the one to convince him to go, but in truth, his motivations had been entirely selfish.

Victoria had evidently had no intentions of being seen with him that night though and had done her level best to avoid him, inexplicably. He'd had to stand there and watch as Conrad held her, as he'd kissed her at midnight and then finally at twelve fifteen when drunken party goers were filtering out, he'd managed to corner her in her husband's study where she had been hiding. He hadn't asked her to explain her avoidance of him, he'd simply gripped her waist, run a hand over her slightly protruding stomach and pressed a kiss to her lips. Their first of the New Year. That had been two weeks ago and once again he was finding that he was filled with worry – that the New Year signalled the end of their relationship for her, even with their baby growing away inside of her. He knew the relationship was toxic and that it certainly wasn't normal or healthy to spend more time worrying that he might not even have a relationship at all, but he loved her and he tried to accept her complications.

* * *

It had been a long day; he'd been working on overdrive to try to get these numbers straight before his deadline of tomorrow morning. Amanda had long since gone to bed and he was ensconced in his bedroom with a scotch and his thoughts for company. He was sitting on his bed, his eyes closed against the drowsiness he felt and he hoped that she made a decision soon. He hoped that she would leave Conrad and agree to start a new life with him; he knew that he had to get out – get away from Grayson Global, it was now less a feeling and more a certainty and yet, he could not bear to leave her, he loved her too much. Just as drowsiness descended into sleep, David became acutely aware of the sound of someone on the lower level of the house. Noticing with the instinct that only a parent has that Amanda's door did not appear to be disturbed as he went to investigate, David breathed a sigh of relief before creeping along the hall and making his way to the staircase. Taking care to grab the shirt which rested over the banister on his way down, he steeled himself to face whoever or whatever lay in wait for him below.

* * *

_The wind whistled forebodingly, a sudden gust causing the gauzy net-curtains screening the French doors to billow around her head. She gripped the white door handle for a second, facing up to what she must do and let it go only when she was sure there was no other option. She had her orders. She was as much a puppet in this as David was and she could only be thankful that he had made the whole task mercifully easy for her. As she crept into the open plan living room, her target fixed in her mind, she was all too aware of the man standing behind her, a strong, threatening character there as much to keep her in line as he was to prevent any interruptions. As she tiptoed towards the table where it lay, she felt his hot breath on her neck and felt her stomach flip. She just hoped she could do it. Heeding Frank's – head of Conrad's security – advice she tried not to make her movements hesitant, she did not want to be an uninvited intruder here any longer than she had to be and she didn't want to think too hard about what this latest betrayal of her lover's trust would mean for him. Instead she moved with as much assurance as she could muster to the table, grasping the black folder in her hand and turning quickly toward Frank who was at her heels and therefore took it from her without a moment's delay, tucking it firmly inside his overcoat and disappearing out of the door again. She was almost clear too, had almost made it out undetected, when she heard the creak of the staircase and then, in quick succession, his voice. _

"_Victoria?" His tone was a mixture of alarm, surprise and relief. After a beat he followed his questioning utterance of her name with a further question. "What are you doing here?" he genuinely wanted to know, she couldn't blame him. They hadn't arranged to meet after all. _

_She was frozen by fear and panic, her heart beat raced in her ears. What if he had seen what she had done? Or worse still if he noticed the missing file from the table? She just couldn't come up with a convincing enough story. Fortunately enough for her, his feelings for her seemed to win out and he followed up his quick fire questions with the concerned statement "you're soaking wet." _

_Was she? She hadn't even noticed, but now that he had mentioned it, she became overwhelmingly aware of the way her dress stuck to her and her hair melded to her head in dark straggles, a puddle pooling at her feet. _

_He was inches away from her now, his hands on her shoulders. He looked about ready to ask her more questions when she finally found her voice. "I... I told Conrad I'm leaving him," she lied and she wasn't sure who was more shocked by this. Judging by the change in his expression however, she would have wagered David. _

"_What? But I thought you said..." she cut him off. _

"_I want for us to be together," she said and that much at least was true. That was precisely what she wanted. He made no reply, but drew her close to him and she felt him smile against her neck. _

_After a while he broke away from her, feeling her shiver and slid his hand to hers. "Come on," he said pulling her towards the staircase and she followed like the foolish girl in love he made her. When they were at the bottom of the staircase, something caught her eye, a movement, just behind the couch and then she saw her. Their eyes met for a split second, understanding passing between the dark fixed orbs of Victoria and Amanda and as David pulled her up the stairs, Victoria felt the panic rising again. What had Amanda been doing down here and just how much had this intuitive little girl seen and understood of what had unfolded? She would never know without implicating herself and so as she followed him upstairs, she tried to focus only on her feelings for David. As they reached his bedroom however, she found that she couldn't forget the disappointed eyes of Amanda Clarke..._

* * *

He pulled back the comforter and watched her settle in, drawing it around her shoulders to stave off the chill. She looked up at him as she ran her hands over the goose-flesh on her arms, almost child-like looking for her protector.

"Better?" he asked, kneeling into the space just beside her and brushing her hair from her head.

"Mm hmm, now I'm with you," she nodded.

"Good. Listen, why don't you stay here and keep warming up whilst I just go check on Amanda?" he suggested, brushing a kiss to her mouth.

She nodded and smiled tensely, afraid of what he might find but realising that her duplicity meant she had to stay silent, she could only watch him go.

* * *

David made his way along the hall to Amanda's room finding that the door was tight shut. Opening it as quietly as he could, he was glad to find his daughter safe in bed. Just as he was about to leave, he heard her speak, her voice tiny in the dark silence.

"Daddy, is that you?"

"It's me honey, everything Ok?" he asked breezily.

She sat up, her blonde curls falling messily about her shoulders as he switched on the overhead light. "There was someone here, wasn't there?" she asked and something in her eyes challenged him.

"Yeah. It's just Victoria. I forgot that she was coming over. Guess I'm just tired out from all the hard work," he laughed tightly.

"It's late," she said pointedly.

"It's not that late honey, I just forgot that's all. It is past your bed time though. You should be sleeping like Sammy," he said his eyes sliding to the dog as he entered the room and saw the fear in his daughter's eyes.

"What is it Amanda?"

"I saw something Daddy," she said biting her lip.

"What'd you see?" he asked concernedly.

Amanda pondered for a moment, drawing her sheets tighter around her. "A monster," she decided upon. It was true after all. She couldn't really understand what she had seen by any other terms.

"A monster huh? Well, what have I told you about monsters?"

She sighed, unable to play his game tonight. "They don't exist," she said heavily, "but I saw one."

"Couldn't have been, this is a monster free-zone remember? It was probably just a shadow." He couldn't quite understand what had Amanda so upset, she had been here all the time after all.

"Right, sure it was," she said, lying back down.

"There's my good girl," he said tucking the comforter beneath her chin and sweeping her hair from her face. "Now don't you worry about a thing, I'm always going to protect you," he assured her as he watched her eyes flutter shut with tiredness. "Night princess," he whispered.

"Night Daddy, love you," she said sleepily.

"Love you too sweetheart," he said kissing her forehead before creeping out.

* * *

Victoria was waiting for him snuggled into the comforter when he got back and it was a sight he relished.

"Everything Ok?" she asked hesitantly, he thought.

"Fine," he said "she's safe and sound in bed," he continued, discarding his shirt and joining her in bed.

"Good. I'm glad," Victoria replied, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't elaborate.

"Me too," he said. "What about you? How are you doing?"

"Fine," she lied, again, hating herself.

"I know that voice, you can tell me what's bothering you," he said gently coaxing.

"I'm just cold and shaken that's all," she said.

"Is it just... the decision or is it the baby too?"

"No, no. The baby's fine, good and healthy," she smiled warmly at the thought of his child growing inside of her.

"So it's just Conrad?" he asked.

"Mm hmm," the lies slipped easily from her tainted lips.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No," she said firmly. "I don't want to talk," she said, looping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his.

They kissed wordless for long minutes until he remembered something which had utterly slipped his mind with all his busyness. Pulling away with all the familiar reluctance he felt every time they were together, he looked into those emotive, haunted eyes and saw once again that something was shining there just beyond his comprehension. Deciding to lighten the mood, he raised the subject of the Christmas gift he'd been waiting to give her.

* * *

"_I got you something," he said with the smallest quirk of a smile as he turned his body towards the nightstand beside him. She laughed and although it was girlish, the deepness of her voice stirred something in him. He paused a moment, withdrawing the box from the drawer before flipping it open and presenting the gift to her. _

_When she looked down she saw a pair of beautiful earrings sparkling up at her, shaped like the teardrops which threatened to fall with every passing second she spent here with him, knowing in the heart she still kept so secret, the part she was playing in his impending downfall. "I love them," she murmured the emotion she felt swelling to colour her tone. _

"_Yeah?" he said, uncertainty flashing in his eyes and for a moment she could see him at the store agonising over the decision of just what to get her to make her understand how he felt about her. _

_In answer she reached into the box and took one of the delicate earrings between her fingers and lifted it to her ear, pushing it in. Quickly flicking her hair from her shoulder, she presented her right side for his inspection. From the angle she was currently positioned at, she saw the smile spread across his face and put the twin into her left ear. _

_He let his fingers trace her jaw and up her face, as if he was trying to memorise every plane of it. "Promise me, when you wear them, you'll think of me," he said and she thought that there was something regretful, almost a tone of lament in his voice. _

_She swallowed hard, trying to force the words of warning she wanted to scream at him deep down where they couldn't ruin what they had. "Always," she said, her voice thick with emotion and her chest heaving with the breath she dared not let escape. _

_He smiled again, satisfied by her response. After a while, he cocooned her in his arms and she took comfort from the warmth he shared with her. "God," he said as he drew her closer and pressed his mouth to hers "you are so beautiful," he finished, guiding her slowly back against the pillows._

* * *

As soon as her back hit the mattress, Victoria felt the frenzy of her need for him building. This wasn't just about this moment, this wasn't about thanking him for the gift he had given her, this was about clinging to him in the hopes that if she believed it enough, the world outside this room, this house, this man did not exist and he could not be hurt by the Grayson wickedness which she herself could never escape from.

His hands were everywhere, his lips caressing every inch of her face and moving hastily lower. As he slid her straps from her shoulders, slowly, respectfully stripping her of the sodden dress she wore, she scraped her fingers down his back, the very tips of her nails digging into his flesh in a desperate attempt to hold him to her. They kissed wordlessly, passionately as he removed her underwear, reaching slowly between them to rid himself of his slacks and boxers and she almost burst into tears as their skin made that first collision. He was so gentle, so loving and between them, growing stronger every day beneath the shield of her modest bump, was the proof of how much he cared about her and she was casually ignoring just how loved she was to orchestrate this man's destruction.

"Please," she whispered, pleaded almost as he grew still, his hands ghosting the swell of her stomach. "David please," she begged, her absolute consuming need for him never stronger than it was in that moment.

* * *

She cried – sobbed - and turned her head away as he entered her. He was as tender and considerate as he ever had been and she supposed that was what did it for her – she had finally realised with astounding clarity what she had recognised on the night when they had first met – he had an innate goodness which she was about to destroy.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, kissing her tenderly and wiping away her tears as he moved slowly, ever mindful of their baby. "I love you, Victoria, I love you," he assured her and that only made her cry harder.

"I'm sorry," she said looking up at him with watery eyes. "I love you too," she promised as she slid a hand into his hair, encouraging him on.

Finally, after the longest time, she relaxed, letting herself become consumed by the passion which always took her when they were together and as she revelled in his every touch, she felt herself verbalising the pleasure she felt with soft sounds he caught in his mouth. As he brought her closer to the edge, she knew undoubtedly. She was in love with David Clarke and would remain so, whatever happened._ Always._

* * *

Victoria lay awake beside him, listening to the steady evenness of his breathing as he slept. She shouldn't still be here, her absence would of course be noted next door but she just couldn't contemplate tearing herself away. Slipping her hand from where it had been entwined with his, she allowed her eyes to slide towards the green LED display. It was a quarter after midnight and time enough that she was gone. She knew there was a schedule and she also had her instructions. Moving as delicately as her newly pregnant body would let her, she got out of bed, stepping quickly and soundlessly back into her clothes. On rather a daring and risky impulse, she bent towards the bed and pressed one chaste kiss to his forehead before turning to leave. As she reached the door, she chanced another impulsive glance toward him, watching him sleep peacefully.

"Forgive me," she whispered, tears already sliding down her face and slipping from her chin.

* * *

**Well there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. I think this was probably the only chapter in which I have made use of quite so much borrowed material but I hope you can see where I embellished it with my touches – like Sammy I know this wasn't how he came into Amanda's life but it worked here. I think you probably know what's coming next, so I guess I should get on and write it right? **

**Thanks as always for reading and I promise a quicker update next time. **

**Xx **


	15. The Fall of a Man

**Hello all you lovelies, **

**Thank you for the kind words on the return of this story and my updates. I hadn't realised that so many of you were quite so attached so that was lovely to hear. **

**I will say this: I know that it looks like this story is going one way, but trust me, you haven't seen anything yet! There's still a good number of chapters left. So here's the next one coming at ya! **

**Two updates in two days... a miracle! Pretty proud of myself over here!**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Revenge its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. P.S: This one's deliberately a little 'different' shall we say?**

* * *

Grogginess. Disorientation. Voices, far off at first but suddenly loud. Hands meeting with empty space. She's gone. Shouting. Demanding. "Surrender". Amanda. Out of bed. Clothes on. Scrambling. Desperate. "Amanda?"

Sammy barking. Yelping. Crying. A scream. "Amanda!" Frantic now. Trip. Fall. "On Your Knees!"

Bright lights. Shield eyes. "I don't understand". Heavy boots. Invaders. Amanda...

Break away. Must escape. Have to get to her.

Pursued. Commands. Bright lights. Yelling.

Living room. Surrounded. "Surrender!"

"Amanda."

Handcuffed, forced down. Hit the ground. Concentrate. Look up. Where is she? What have they done to her? "Amanda?"

Radio command. "Bring him in." Don't understand. "Why are you here?" No reply. "You have the wrong man." Laughter.

Begging. "Please, my daughter, she'll be scared."

Flurry of movement. There she is. Amanda.

Crying. Sobbing. Screaming. Pleading. Dog barking. Commands. "Shut that dog up." A yelp. "Amanda."

Screaming, begging. "Please don't hurt my Daddy."

"Baby, it's Ok, look at me. Baby I'm fine." Lies.

"On your feet." Up. Moving. Can't get to her. She's crying. "Amanda..."

"Take him away."

"Daddy." Such a piercing sound. Amanda, his poor Amanda.

"Amanda I love you..."

Screaming. "Please no... Please don't take my Daddy. I didn't see anything... I promise."

What did she see. What did he miss. Why didn't he listen?

Frog marched, pushed onwards. On the veranda. Conrad. Frank... Her. Changed. Black skirt, black sweater. Avoiding eye contact.

"Victoria, help me!"

She turns her head away.

_Monsters. _

Thrown in a van.

Confusion.

"Rikers."

"What?"

"Terrorist."

Set up.

Grayson. _Conrad_ Grayson.

"Plentiful evidence."

_Graysons_... Her..._ Victoria_... Realisation. _Fool_.

Door slammed.

Dark.

_Betrayed_.

* * *

He watched as the bright lights began to recede and quiet began to descend on the beach once more. A brief survey showed that all the owners of the beach front properties had witnessed his apprehension. Perfect. The way things had panned out worked perfectly with the story American Initiative already had drafted for print tomorrow. He did not say anything, no words summed up the elation he felt at that moment.

He kept an eye on his wife, who was currently standing on the veranda of her lover right where he'd told her to stand, clinging to the awning and looking as pale as a ghost. She'd get over it, he thought and if she didn't, so be it. It'd be a lesson to her.

He was about to turn away, take hold of Victoria and usher her back inside the manor where he would have complete control of her when there was movement from inside the house. Seconds later, the door opened and preceding the Child Protective Services representative Victoria had insisted upon for Amanda was the child herself, her hair wild, strewn every which way, her face streaked with tears. Contrary to his assumption, she came out quietly, sedately. Defeated. The woman accompanying her had her hand on her shoulder, but in a final act of defiance, Amanda shirked her off. She was still in her pyjamas and her feet were jammed into a pair of boots as she got into the car and for just a moment, like all of Conrad's moments, he felt a brief pang of remorse for the sad little tableau unfolding before him, before he remembered the greater good of his corrupt company and pushed it aside. Lots of children grew up in care, he reasoned. Taking hold of Victoria's unyielding body roughly and pulling her inside, he turned his back on the scene and on the child of his ex-employee. They had their own son to tend to.

* * *

He let her go the second the door was locked. The woman could be poison on a good day and he dreaded to think what she would say or do now, when he had dealt her this blow, when he had robbed of what he knew to be happiness.

* * *

Minutes later as he stood in his study nursing a scotch, he reflected on the work that he'd put into David Clarke's demise. It hadn't been easy and some sacrifices had had to be made – like any shred of respect his wife might have had for him for example- but he had done it, he'd saved his company and his marriage – at least for appearance's sake – in one fell swoop and it had only cost him the fall of one man.

First thing tomorrow morning the papers would print the story of the seemingly goodhearted man who'd used Grayson Global to front his terrorist activities and Conrad's work to 'out' David Clarke would be counted as heroism. To all but his wife. It didn't matter, the love of the people was worth more to him than the love of that woman, or at least, he tried to tell himself that.

* * *

As he shut the door of his study, intending to follow his wife upstairs, he became acutely aware of a horrific sound from next door. It was a haunted, hollow howl of such grief, a lasting lament to Mr Clarke. The howling grief of the dog David had had since Christmas. Something would have to be done about that, he decided. But that was somebody else's problem he decided as he swallowed the last of his scotch...

* * *

**Confused? Yes? Good. I wanted this chapter to be mimetic of the confusion David would have felt at the point of his arrest and also, I wanted to try something a little different style wise and thought that this was the place to do it before I resume normal narrative in the next chapter. **

**Thanks for reading xx. **


	16. To Save Herself

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thanks once again for all the comments on the previous chapter, I appreciate them so much. So this is a pretty unique one time only digression of a chapter and it's for all of you out there who wanted a little... ConVict. Did I get the contraction right? I'll admit it wouldn't usually do it, but there seems to be such demand and there seemed to be a good reaction to 'The Game Changer' so here goes. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT OWN Revenge, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked it italics. P.S: There's also a minor re-interpretation of a quotation from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein - so credit where it's due. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Snow was falling in a heavy blanket across the beach. She should have been freezing but if she was cold, she didn't feel it. She was numb right to her core as if something other than the weather had turned her to ice. She should have been raging, she should have been distraught but if she cried, she didn't know it. All that she was aware of in the abyss of her own nothingness was the incessant howling of that eight week old Labrador puppy. She didn't mind it. It at least connected her to what had happened, reminded her that something_ had_ happened. She hadn't expected it to happen so quickly, the detachment. But it was almost instant. As if in turning her head away when he had called to her had severed their connection forever. Except that she hadn't.

He was gone and it was over but she still carried a little piece of him with her and it grew stronger every day. For the first time in the months since she had found out she was carrying his baby, she was filled with nothing but resentment for it. It would be a constant reminder of him and she didn't think she could handle that. Soon enough, maybe in an hour, maybe in a week this numbness would wear off and she would be forced to confront the missing thing in her life, she'd realise that she missed him and she'd have to accept her role in what had happened to him. She would hate herself but she could barely muster the energy to do anything other than focus on the blessed emptiness which had descended upon her as she stared out to sea and became faintly aware of that recurring desire to be well, frankly anywhere but here.

She wondered briefly what Conrad was doing, right at this moment when she was standing on the edge of the world as she knew it – probably drinking himself into a celebratory stupor if she knew anything about him – she didn't care, she decided. If he was drunk, he was out of her way, right where she liked him. It was in his quietly sober moments that she had the most to fear from him and with the life she was protecting inside of herself, she couldn't bear the risk.

What would she do now? She thought to herself. She'd helped Conrad orchestrate a tremendous fall for the man she loved and for what? How would things be now? When David had been just next door, there had been hope. A way out. He'd seen past her monstrous self and appreciated her for the woman she had been before her step father had done those terrible things to her, before her mother had kicked her to the curb, before she'd had to be grateful, just to live. For a few blissful but short months she'd allowed herself to believe in the resurrection of Vicky Harper and now all that was gone. In the ruin of the fine fairytale David had imagined for them, she stood, trying to cling to the identity of the desperate woman she had become.

She continued to stare into the blackness from her position on the balcony, trying to look anywhere but down and to her right where so many times over the summer, she'd had the secret pleasure of looking down to his veranda and seeing him there with a smile only for her. Now, she knew, when she looked down, there would be only the swing, caught up by the wind, the whole house haunted and empty. She closed her eyes against the thoughts which rushed upon her - the guilt she felt - and found that alarmingly, she could only think of Amanda Clarke, that poor defeated little girl and her disappointed eyes.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long she'd been out here but it had seemed to grow blacker, as if just like her hopes, the night had surrendered to the inevitable darkness. She contemplated going inside but she didn't think she could sleep. She considered packing a bag and heading for the sports car, but she didn't know where to go. She was lost, trapped in a life she neither wanted nor could escape. She was entirely alone, a former beacon of somebody else's greatness and she couldn't help but begin to feel a chill as she thought about what would happen to her.

After a time, she let go. Of the pretence and the restraint and she let the tears come. Once again she had surprised herself. First with the coldness of her heart – that coldness which Conrad had so rightly seen in her- and now with the way she was letting her emotions take hold of her. She cried, for herself, for her happy ending and ultimately for the man she would always miss. Her shoulders shook, her chest heaved as great sobs consumed her and still her tears showed no signs of abating. Acutely, she became aware of a sound behind her, the signal that she was no longer alone and even this knowledge did nothing to abate the grief she felt. She was broken and he could damn well see the result of his best work yet. '_Look upon your work, Conrad' _she thought, _'for I am a monster of your making'_.

* * *

There was silence between them, deathly, all consuming silence and neither one wanted to be the one to break it. To see her broken and defeated, sobbing for the error of her attempts at rising above him gave him a strange, twisted feeling of disgusted satisfaction with himself that he did not wish to verbalise and she did not want to give him the pleasure of hearing her screaming at him like a banshee, howling over the loss she had sustained. So they remained exactly where they were, neither one acknowledging the other, until finally the sound of her sobbing lessened and her body grew still and quiet.

Soon it was no longer emotion which caused her shoulders to shake but rather the bone chilling cold and she shivered, trying to warm herself but knowing that she could never feel the comfort of a warm heart again. All the goodness he had seen in her was gone, lost to the man who would forever be her creator and her jailer.

* * *

A short time after he had gotten the full benefit of watching her spend her emotions, he disappeared – clearly he had gotten what he came for – proof that he had beaten her. Good. Perhaps he would let things lie as they were. Perhaps as with his many mistresses, David Clarke would be just another thing between them, another justification for the poisonous marriage the King and Queen of the Hamptons endured and they would move on. Maybe tomorrow, when they'd both had time to sleep off this horrendous night and she'd resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing she could do for the other man, she'd go downstairs, eat her grapefruit breakfast with a sour face matching the taste of the fruit and he'd go into the office, begin 'damage control' on the 'situation'. Perhaps by the time he returned tomorrow the instructions she would dispense about the closing of the manor for winter would be well underway and by the end of the week, they could be back in the penthouse in the City and there would be a thriving metropolis between this awful summer and the Graysons.

That, all that, in such copious detail as she had endeavoured to embellish it with, would be the post-affair scenario if Conrad had been caught out as an adulterer .Of course the snag in the plan was that it wasn't Conrad who had been caught out and so, an ideal world did not exist for Victoria Grayson. That was why she shouldn't have been surprised when mere minutes after he had disappeared inside, he appeared on the balcony again, a heavy-cut crystal glass in his hand, filled with the poison he filled his body with clearly intended for her.

* * *

"Here," he said gruffly, thrusting the glass towards her.

She remained static, not moving to take it from him. Amongst various other reasons, her current state prevented her from drinking the scotch he offered.

"Drink it. It'll help."

She shook her head once firmly.

"For God's sake!" he raged, forcing the glass back towards her.

She stood up then, leaving her chair in rather a dizzying motion and batting the glass away fiercely. "I said no!" she yelled watching the glass fly from his hand and hit the marble floor of the balcony shattering into millions of pieces.

"Now look what you've done!" she said, her breathing heavy. She stooped and grabbed frantically at the largest pieces of glass. "Just another thing you've broken. Broken glass, broken man, broken... _wife_," she grew quiet, squaring up to him so that he could see all the pain in her eyes, all the hurt he had caused as he wrenched her fingers open and took the glass from her. "Are you proud of yourself?" she asked tightly, going to the railing as far away from him as she could, the cold shaking her to the bone.

"Victoria..." he murmured; the faintest hint of regret in his voice as he came closer to her. He stopped himself short, after the utterance of her name he had absolutely no idea what he should say because he was Conrad Grayson and he was never sorry for anything he did, even hurting the only woman he'd ever truly loved.

"It's over," she said sadly, "congratulations, you won." She was practically convulsing now but she would not let herself be defeated by him.

He strode across her balcony, ignoring all the indicators that she didn't want him anywhere near her and caught her up in his arms from behind. She was volatile, like an animal and it was a rare occasion that he was actually permitted to hold her and yet, as he clasped her, taking her wrists in his hands, he could feel the resistance she put up to his embrace. "You're freezing," he said stating the obvious but finding that he almost had to recoil at the coldness of her skin beneath her fingertips.

"Are you surprised? My heart _is _cold after all," she said bitterly.

He took the retort silently. He had drummed those very words into her often enough, had tried to break her spirit with them on more occasions than he cared to remember and he found himself wishing that he could find some way to reconcile with her, to find her forgiveness deep beyond the hatred she radiated for him.

"Well," he said gruffly, anger once again returning to him. "At least come inside would you? You'll catch your death out here."

"Suddenly you'd care about that?" she wheeled on him, forcing his hand from her wrist.

He didn't answer her, just took her by the arm and pulled her towards the door, not letting her go even when she put up a fight. She was hissing venom at him all the way but he just let it bounce off him, knowing that soon her cutting words would be replaced by the harsh sting of a slap and wanting to delay that as long as possible.

* * *

"Why are you here?" she asked, wrenching herself away from him and putting distance between them.

"I'm here Victoria, because like it or not we still have a marriage and a son and responsibilities and we have to find a way to move past this. I'm here to forgive you," he said.

She balked, stepping further away from him and stumbling against her dressing table. "You... are such a hateful, poor excuse for a man Conrad Grayson. How dare you? How dare you have the audacity to come here with your forgiveness and your concern after everything you've ever done to me, after every time you've almost destroyed this marriage... you can rest assured Conrad, I_ know_ that we have a son, he's only person in all of this who is innocent and if it weren't for him, I'd have been in the wind a long time ago."

"I haven't been the best husband, I know," he said his head bowed.

"The best husband?" she laughed "you haven't been the best husband? Oh that is rich... Priceless."

"Victoria I want to fix this. You and I..."

"Are toxic," she interjected, "we are positively toxic and the worst of it is, everyone knows it. Everyone it seems, but you."

"You loved me once, why do you find me so repugnant now?"

"You have to ask that, after all the despicable things you've done in your life? After what you did tonight? That man is innocent."

"_That _man was ruining us, he was turning your head, stealing you away!"

"I'm not a _thing_; I'm not your possession. You don't own me Conrad..."

"...and besides, you helped to send him away Victoria, an innocent man. The Initiative couldn't have done it without you," he interrupted.

"Don't you dare try to pin this on me Conrad! You gave me no choice, no choice at all. You presented his downfall or his death as options and I will not see him dead."

"I gave you the choice between him or me – my company, our home, our life and you chose all those things over the man you're breaking your heart for."

"You loathsome cruel man – don't pretend that you would have had him spared."

"I'm not saying that, at all. I'm saying that like it or not, you're as guilty in this as I am and we have to deal with this in a united way."

* * *

She was silent, considering what he had said. Of course, he was right on so many levels. If it appeared that she disagreed with anything that Grayson Global put out in public it would look like Conrad had some part in what had happened – which of course he did – and the work that had been put into keeping the company alive would be for nothing. She would have chosen this life only to have everything ripped away from her with not even the comfort of things to ease the emptiness she felt inside.

"Fine," she said sedately. "But for tonight, there is no way in Hell that I'm going to pretend that I understand any of this, that I wanted any of this. So leave, now."

His eyes darkened in front of her own and she wondered what that meant, usually it was a sign of rage but he wore a smirk which indicated that he was feeling something entirely different.

He shook his head firmly, closing the gap between them and standing opposite her, trapping her between himself and the dresser and knowing that however much she might have wanted it, there was only limited space in which for her to recoil. "Let me fix this Victoria, let me give you what you want."

"How can _you _possibly give me what I want? You took away the first happiness I've felt in years, there's nothing else I want more than for this night never to have happened," she said, careful not to slide her hand to her stomach, which thankfully to his unseeing eyes was still mercifully flat.

"Perhaps... he meant more to you than I thought and maybe you'll never be able to love me the way you once did, but I can at least give you something else to love... a sibling for Daniel, another child for you to love."

"A child? That's your solution?" she felt sick, but she knew it _was_ the only solution to her current predicament. Conrad had to think the child she carried was his, especially now David was headed to Rikers and that wasn't going to happen by just being in his presence. "You don't want to give me anything..." she said shakily. "You want to take something," she said utterly repulsed by the idea.

"On the contrary my dear, I want you to give me something. Yourself, like you used to."

"I'm not the girl I was then," she said immediately, drawing her arms tightly around her body.

"No, you're not. You're Victoria Grayson now and the Victoria Grayson I know isn't afraid to use her body to get what she wants," his eyes flashed with the challenge.

Her head was spinning and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what he was implying, of what he was trying to do. Was he really trying to... turn her on with memories of their bygone volatile sex life? The more time she spent in his company, the more she was left reeling and repulsed. He had to leave, now and to Hell with the consequences. She raised her eyes to meet his, knowing that they were as dead and cold as she could make them. "Don't do this," she murmured, watching him come closer again and knowing that if she didn't do as he willed, he would make her.

"Come on Victoria, am I really so terrible? Don't you remember how good we were together? Once upon a time I was the only man you'd look at."

She raised her arm, swiping at her tears with her forearm, clearing her throat in an attempt to regain control. "...and once upon a time in our twisted little story, I was the only woman you wanted. It must have been _so _good between us, you must have loved me _so_ much," she said sarcastically.

"I know that for you, this marriage is torture but that's not how I feel about it. I may stray away from you, I may seek the company of other women but I always come back to you. You're the mother of my son, you're the face of our company and you're my wife."

He made it seem like he was her loving Casanova, that theirs was a relationship filled with passion and intensity and maybe that was true, but the only things she felt passionately or intensely about in this moment were how much she hated him and she told him so. "I hate you," she hissed, the words venomous.

"I know and I wish that I could do something which would change that. I know you think that what I did to that man was to hurt you but the truth is, I couldn't bear the thought that you would never come back to me, I love you Victoria... it's my weakness – you're my weakness," he said into the shell of her ear, his breath hot on her neck.

She swallowed hard, the worst thing about this was that he seemed to be sincere and she couldn't handle that right now. A few short hours ago she was ready to leave him, to walk away and never see him again and now, she was here in this house, trapped forever in a marriage she detested to a man who would always hold her heart in his hands, ready to squeeze the life out of her.

* * *

She drew herself up to her full height, finding that she was able to look into his eyes easily whilst wearing her heels. "You want to know what I want?" she asked, her voice low and throaty. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I want you to stop talking," she said, placing her hands on his chest and shunting him backwards "in fact, I want you to shut up," she continued. Her hand snaking upwards toward the back of his neck. She paused for a moment, steeling her nerves, mustering her courage before she moved just close enough to him, pushing her lips against his roughly, angrily. To kiss him had been her only option. If she hadn't she feared she might have killed him and then where would she be?

_Rikers. _

_David. _

She couldn't think about him anymore tonight. She had a job to do, she had her survival to think of, this was just something she had to do and thoughts of her generous, gentle lover would do her no good in the presence of this man, who took what he wanted without any thought for her. In the short duration of that kiss she became again, only Mrs Grayson.

* * *

Conrad was elated. Under no circumstances had he expected himself to still be in her bedroom when he had ventured here in a euphorically drunken celebration of his own genius and yet here they were, in the same room in spite of everything he had done and she was kissing him, letting him sweep his tongue around her mouth, it was better than he had even dared to hope and so he could not waste time. Pulling her closer still, he felt their hips collide, the softness of her womanly body meeting with his own impressive tautness. He grunted against her mouth as right when he began getting a little licentious with his hands, gripping her, pawing her, clawing her even, she bit down on his lip, forcing them apart.

"What is it with you and biting?" he asked angrily.

"Well... it seems to be the only way to get your attention."

"You certainly have it now," he said wiping his lip like a wounded soldier. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to know if you plan to stand here _fondling _me all night or if you're going to do this like a man, show me what Conrad Grayson is made of?" she quipped knowing that her ribbing would stoke a fire in him and actually relishing the thought of the return of her cruel husband to the bedroom, at least then she'd have a focus for her hatred.

He grabbed her roughly then, forcing her back away from the dresser and towards the bed. "When you put it like that," he said, his fingers reaching into her sensible pencil skirt and pulling the cashmere sweater she wore from the waistband. "Conrad Grayson is made of stronger stuff," he said and she could not resist an eye roll at his third person reference.

* * *

As he set about stripping her of her sweater, she fisted his shirt in her hands disdainfully, her thumbs carelessly popping the buttons until he had lifted the sweater too far over her head and they became a tangled mess of flailing arms and heavy breathing. She relented, waiting for him to discard the four hundred dollar Dolce onto the floor before she proceeded to divest him of his Armani. She found that focusing on the names of the designers they were wearing helped detract from the reality that here they were standing in their marital bedroom, Victoria and Conrad, as if Hell truly had frozen over.

She felt nothing as she was confronted with her husband's bare torso, she hadn't in so long that it did not come as a surprise but she was still glad that her body did not seem to be registering a reaction, she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. This was purely functional, there was to be no reciprocation of any feelings he told himself he was having for her.

She felt the zipper on her Chanel skirt give and realised with no small amount of pleasure that however indifferent she was managing to be, the same could not be said for her husband was almost shaking with the excitement he so clearly felt at the prospect of having her nearly naked. As she stepped out of her skirt and stood before him in a loosely fitting sheer black slip, she couldn't help but let herself indulge in one triumphant smile. She was winning and he suspected nothing. However much she had been hurt by him and what had transpired tonight because of him, she still possessed a power over him he could not claim. She still had the ability to make him love her and he did, she believed that – on some twisted level he still cared about the snivelling, pathetic little girl he had rescued all those years ago and that could only be an advantage – hers.

* * *

His hands were everywhere, her hips, her breasts, her bottom, anywhere she allowed him access to and she did not set a limit. She would allow him this small victory if she was going to win the war and she would. She would secure her future tonight and for as many nights as it took until he got bored of her again and she would suffer the agony of her surrender silently, knowing that the risk of denying him was too great.

He melded their hips again with his hands, grasping her, holding her close, making it impossible for her to escape him – the smell of the cologne she had bought him half-heartedly at Christmas, the mixture of pleasure and wrongful triumph in his eyes, the stubble on his chin or the alcohol which laced his warm breath in such a way that was almost comforting. To increase the distance between them for the sake of avoiding the dangerous feelings which swelled inside her, she drew back, raking her hands down his chest, catching the dark whorls of hair between her fingers and tugging until he groaned, stumbling forward so that his mouth fell onto hers again and he kissed her hungrily, passionately almost as she unfastened his pants and dropped them skilfully to his ankles.

Wanting nothing more than for this ordeal to be over, she began backing towards the bed, lowering herself onto the mattress. He followed wordlessly, his hands on the strap of her slip almost immediately.

She covered his hand with hers, pushing him away. "Leave it," she said tersely as he pressed himself against her, probably hoping that he would elicit some reaction from her which she did not give him.

"No, you know how I like it," he said pushing the strap down her arm determinedly.

"At least turn the light out," she begged quietly, wondering if she even needed to worry. He probably wouldn't even notice her bump anyway.

"Have it your way," he said, reaching over her and switching the light out "but I want you naked," he said simply.

* * *

It was entirely unromantic. In the dark she at least had the comfort of not having to look into his eyes but she feel everything – the way he pawed at her, ripped at her underwear, had her naked in seconds. He was forceful, palming her breasts violently, his stubble burning her bare skin as he pressed his mouth to her. His fingertips pinched, tweaked, caused her sensitive, changing body pain, until she had to bat his hands away, unable to bear it any longer.

"Stop. I will not be hurt Conrad," she said firmly.

"You used to like the way I touched you, you used to like it rough."

"I've changed," she deadpanned "and you have to if you want this to work," she said hearing his frustration in his breathing.

He did not reply, would not give her the satisfaction of realising that he thought she had a point. The truth was, they hadn't had any sexual contact in more than two years and they had both changed. Her tastes were different, her body was different and he had to recognise that the woman he'd taken to bed on their wedding night was not the woman lying here now.

* * *

He backed up, knowing that she could still kick him out of their bedroom if she wanted and he wouldn't really put up much of a fight. He might be perceived to be cruel by her, he might relish hurting her with his words, but he would never want to cause her actual physical harm – at least not when he was sober – which of course he was not b- it just suddenly seemed so clear to him that he must not harm her. He ran his hand down her body, touching her as tenderly as his frenzy would allow until he felt his fingers find her intimacy. As he allowed them to slip inside of her, he stilled, desperate to hear her reaction, but only silence greeted him. She was good, better than him.

He caressed her, explored her, reacquainting himself with the woman he had loved once and again and still she remained tensely silent. His one comfort was that it seemed to be becoming more difficult for her to be so. She was no longer still and stone but threw her body off to the side as if simultaneously trying to escape his touch and draw him closer.

"Victoria please," he said after a while, intensely frustrated.

"Please what?" she murmured, at the end of her tether and wanting this to be over.

"Let me in. You know, I could love you, if you would let me," he said.

"_I could love you, if you would let me." _David had said those exact words to her on their first night together and she felt tears constricting in her throat almost immediately.

"Don't," she said, growing cold and distant. "Don't say that," she said thrusting her hands into his boxers and dragging them down, unsheathing him at last.

"Just do it. Please do this one thing for me, do it now," she said, gripping the sheets and bracing herself for his entry of her.

* * *

It was over. Conrad lay beside her, his body thankfully turned away from her, sleeping heavily. She lay awake, was unsure whether she would ever be able to sleep again with the words of her lover spoiled by her husband and yet still utterly haunting. Tears stained her cheeks and although fresh bouts kept coming she cried them silently not wanting him to see how utterly destroyed she was.

In the quiet darkness she slipped from the bed, pulling on her ruined slip and creeping out of the balcony door. Once there, she couldn't help the action which she had been trying to avoid since everything had happened. She allowed herself to look down at the empty beach house next door. The door had blown open in the wind - Child Protective Services hadn't even had the courtesy to secure the door – she just hoped that Sammy, that poor little girl's puppy was Ok - but that wasn't what disturbed her so much. It unsettled her that the house could look so inviting even to her, the person who'd helped to orchestrate its owner's demise. It was just that there was nothing for her there anymore but memories of the wickedness in her heart. She blew out a breath, straightened her spine and squared up to the facts – she'd only been doing what she'd had to, she'd sacrificed her integrity, her goodness, her happiness and ultimately her love and all to save herself. With that utterly honest thought, she retreated back into the bedroom, sliding beneath the comforter next to the only man who knew what she truly was – desperately broken and utterly monstrous...

* * *

**Well there it is. It took a little longer to render than I would have liked both in terms of the number of days it took me and with regards to the word count, but I hope that all you ConVict shippers liked it. As I said, it is a minor digression from the plot which continues in the next chapter. **

**Excuse any minor editorial issues, I've tried my best. **

**Love you all, thanks for reading xxx**


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